


Corrupted Blood

by QueenCoeurl



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Eldritch, Eye Trauma, Gen, Horror, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Medical Procedures, Monsters, Mystery, Needles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parasites, Self-Harm, Stitches, Tentacle Monsters, ambiguous time period
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9894887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCoeurl/pseuds/QueenCoeurl
Summary: Having gotten their hands on one of those fancy new automobiles, the Lads are ready to leave their hometown behind and seek the success and riches of the Big City.Shame that their vehicle breaks down, stranding them in a small seaside fishing village full of paranoid and suspicious residents who are less than friendly towards outsiders. With the streets devoid of life and windows boarded, just what is going on in this place? And why are there so many fresh graves?A Lovecraftian flavoured AU, set in an ambiguous "old-timey" period.





	1. Small Town Blues

  A mid-day sun warmed the ground, while a cool sea breeze came in from the coast. The bay was a shimmering blanket on the horizon as they passed pastures and fields.

  Their automobile bounced along the dirt and gravel road at a comfortable clip with Gavin behind the wheel. Michael dozed in the passenger seat, and Jeremy was stretched out asleep in the back. Sometimes a bump would stir a grunt or snort from the boys, but Gavin knew that they were heavy sleepers, and wouldn’t wake.

  Gavin let out a large yawn. They’d been travelling for hours through the countryside after having decided to head for the big city. They were peddlers, entertainers, hell, even window cleaners if the job demanded it. They took what money they could get, and when Gavin managed to win the auto from betting on hounds, they’d decided to leave their town and take their chances elsewhere.

  The Big City promised wealth and achievement, but they had to get there first. Gavin himself had come to the new world following the same promises. Months on a steamer across the Atlantic and he’d learned that America was no more a land of milk and honey than England. Finding Michael and Jeremy, two lads who shared his dreams, he’d quickly befriended them.

  And now they were travelling together, further chasing the same old dreams. Having done it all before, he was jaded as to their prospects, but Michael and Jeremy seemed to truly believe. He wouldn’t take that from them.

  If anything, what Gavin could admit was that America sure had a lot of empty space. The mere concept of physically being so alone that the nearest settlement was over a hundred miles away was terrifying. Yes, automobiles had made those distances shorter than when the only option had been a horse, but a horse couldn’t run out of petrol.

  With that thought his eyes flicked down to the fuel gauge. The small red ball bobbed at about halfway, jumping each time he hit a bump. Plenty left.

 

  Gavin hit the next pothole with a loud _CRACK!_

The whole automobile jerked violently forward, throwing everyone within from their seats. Shouting, Michael and Jeremy woke as they hit the floor, and Gavin yelped as the bridge of his nose collided with the metal of the steering wheel.

 

  “GAVIN!” Michael bellowed, grabbing his newsy cap from the floor and forcefully jamming it back on his head.

  Jeremy clawed his way back into his seat, “What happened?! Did we hit something?”

  Gavin moaned and touched the bridge of his nose. His fingers came away bloody and he squawked in despair.

  Michael threw his door open, “Of course it’s you that fucking breaks our ride!” he huffed, crossing his arms as he moved around front to survey the damage, “You fucking moron!”

  “How is it?” Gavin opened his own door and moved to join Michael while gently daubing at his split nose with a pocket square.

  Michael pointed to the front passenger wheel which was violently turned outwards, revealing a splintering axel.

  Gavin threw up his arms with a devastated cry.

  Jeremy hopped out of the automobile, straightening his vest, “That bad?”

  “Real fucking bad.” Michael told him, and waved a hand at the wheel.

  Jeremy approached and swore, “You hit so hard you cracked the wood of the axel! Just how fast were you going, Gavin?”

  “It wasn’t that fast!” Gavin protested, “Maybe we can just push it straight and–”

  “And what Gav? There’s no fucking way that’s going to hold our weight.” Michael interrupted.

  “I think Michael’s right.” Jeremy admitted with a sigh, “Next bump or hole and our whole wheel will break clean off.”

  “Maybe we can push it.” Gavin suggested.

  “Push it where?!” Michael shouted and gestured to the empty fields around them, “Who knows how far the next town is?!”

  “So what? We just sit here with our thumbs in our arses hoping someone comes to save us?!” Gavin shouted back.

  “Maybe we can walk? There’s supposed to be a town on the bay, and we can see the water from here, so it can’t be that far.” Jeremy offered.

  “’That far’?” Michael scoffed, “That’s gotta be _miles_ away.”

  “Closer than going back the way we came.” Jeremy pointed out, “We can walk a couple miles. It’ll be better than hanging out here when night falls.”

  “Lil’ J has a point, Michael. We can spend the night in town and get some help in the morning.” Gavin nodded.

  Michael conceded, “Fine. Grab whatever and let’s go.”

  “I’ve got nothing ‘cept some clothes, and those can stay. If anyone is gonna steal anything it’ll be our automobile and not the junk inside.” Jeremy smiled.

  “It’s not junk!” Gavin defended, “It’s all we’ve got!”

  “And what we’ve got is junk.” Michael sneered and threw a look to Jeremy, making them both laugh.

  Gavin frowned but went to rummage around the auto anyway. He found his tweed jacket and slung it over a shoulder. A moment later and he found his half empty canteen as well, “Fine, but I won’t be cold when it gets dark.” He slammed the door shut.

  “The idea is to get to town before that.” Jeremy smirked and pat Michael on the shoulder.

  With that, the lads begrudgingly started the trek. It took them over two hours to reach the edges of civilization.

  The road grew smoother and better travelled, and the sea breeze grew stronger and full of salt. A fishy scent wafted between stone brick buildings as they entered into the small town.

  It really was more of a fishing village than town, built close along the rocky shore of the bay. Deserted cobblestone streets wound their way between tightly packed buildings with many of their windows broken or boarded up.

 

  “This place is giving me serious creepy vibes.” Jeremy admitted as they tried to spot even one resident that they could ask for aid.

  “Where is everyone?” Gavin moved closer to the other two, “Why are the streets empty?”

  Michael cupped his hands around his mouth, “Hello!” he yelled out.

  The three of them waited for any kind or a reply as they kept moving forward.

  “Look over there!” Jeremy spotted a wooden sign with the word ‘INN’ carved into it. It hung on chains from a metal bar attached to a wide two-storey building. Its many windows were boarded with large heavy planks, but otherwise it appeared in a relatively good state of repair.

  Excited at the prospect of getting help, they rushed forward to the door of the inn, and quickly found it locked.

  “Hey!” Michael began to bang on the door.

  “Hello!” Jeremy joined him.

  “Any one there?!” Gavin hollered over their pounding.

  “We need some help!” Jeremy pleaded.

 

  A muffled angry voice came from inside, “Alright! Alright! Stop your banging!”

  They stepped back and let the door be opened as far as a heavy locking chain would allow.

  A bespectacled man with red hair and beard peered through at them suspiciously, “Who are you?”

  “I’m Jeremy, this is Michael, and this is Gavin.” Jeremy introduced them, “We were driving up the road and broke our axel. We’re looking for a place to spend the night and get some help so we can continue on.”

  “You should look elsewhere.” The man told them bluntly.

  “But the sign says this is an inn!” Gavin pointed upwards.

  “Trust me, just leave town as soon as you can.” He warned them and then slammed the door in their faces.

  “HEY!” Michael screamed at him, “HEY! ASSHOLE! OPEN THE DOOR!” he began to bang on the door again.

  “What the fuck?!” Jeremy shouted and kicked out at the door angrily.

   Letting out the rest of his rage in a few final hits, Michael turned away from the inn rubbing the pain from his fists.

  “What the bollocks is going on here?” Gavin was in as much disbelief as the rest of them.

  “Who the fuck knows?” Michael threw up his hands and let them fall back down.

  Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair, “Maybe we can try another place?”

  “This was an inn!” Gavin exclaimed, “They’re supposed to cater to strangers! Why would anyone else be friendlier?”

  “What if that wasn’t the innkeeper?” Jeremy proposed, “The windows are all boarded up–”

  “Yeah, so are the windows of every other place in this town.” Michael argued.

  “Coulda been a storm, and most people left. Then the remainder decided to loot the place before they come back.” Jeremy tried to piece it all together, “So this guy doesn’t want us interrupting.”

  “So you think we can find someone better?” Gavin wanted to be hopeful.

  “We should at least try.” Michael nodded, agreeing to the new plan.

  “Yeah, and I’m thinking; what person wouldn’t leave if there was a storm and people could get hurt? Or that wouldn’t risk their place being looted?” Jeremy asked.

  “The police?” Michael offered a guess, “Fire brigade?”

  “This town looks too small to have proper police…” Gavin crossed his arms and looked around, “A Priest would want to help people, but a church probably wouldn’t get looted.”

  “I’m thinking doctor.” Jeremy told them, “Let’s try and find a clinic.”

  Gavin shook his head, “You think a town too small for a police station would have a clinic?”

  “Clinic, police station, church…” Michael shrugged, “Doesn’t matter which as long as we find someone right?”

  Jeremy nodded, “Let’s start searching and knocking. Daylight’s burnin’.”

 

  The church was easy enough to find. The church steeple was one of the tallest structures in town, and it sat on a small grassy plot of land with a shady forested graveyard visible around back. There were several freshly covered graves, an unusually large amount for such a small settlement. One would expect maybe one or two, but there were over a dozen fresh dirt mounds.

  Gavin nudged Michael with his elbow to point out the fresh graves, “Do you think a storm would have killed that many?”

  “Maybe.” Michael didn’t know enough to be sure.

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Jeremy stopped and looked out over the graveyard.

  “Why?” Michael stopped and looked at Jeremy.

  “Well assuming it was a storm, and people fled… who buried them? The looters?” Jeremy didn’t think they would have.

  “I don’t like it. The longer we’re here the worse this place gets.” Gavin shuddered.

  “Let’s just check the church and then get as far away from the graveyard as possible.” Jeremy agreed.

  “What? Afraid of the dead?” Michael teased.

  “More afraid of just why there’s so many dead.” Jeremy specified.

  “Oh God, what if it’s a pox?!” Gavin squealed, “We could be infected already!”

  “Oh calm down!” Michael shouted at him, and stepped forward into the lead. He marched up to the church doors and gave them a strong tug. When they didn’t open, he tried a shove. Nothing, “Church’s locked too.” He informed them as he returned to the group.

  “Fucking great.” Jeremy wasn’t at all disappointed to leave.

  “Who locks a bloody church during the day?” Gavin asked no one in particular, but was also eager to head back onto the streets.

  “Fucking weirdos is who.” Michael muttered, “This place is apparently full of them.”

 

  They passed by a grocer with smashed in windows, and a pub so heavily boarded up it looked ready for siege, until they made their way to a large four-storey brick building. It was more ornately built than most of the other buildings, and the windows on the first two storeys had wrought iron bars protecting them. The bars were too decorative to belong to a prison, with swirls and twists, but they seemed to be doing their job. The glass in the windows was unbroken with heavy red curtains pulled shut behind them. The main door was up a couple steps and made of heavy wood with iron studs. Next to it was a painted wooden sign of a red cross on a white background.

 

  “Told you there’d be a doctor!” Jeremy smiled and hopped up the steps to knock on the door.

  “Hell of a place for such a small town…” Michael looked up at the tall structure, “Large enough to be a hospital.”

  Gavin nodded, admiring the stonework around the windows.

 

  The mail slot in the door slid open and the barrel of a revolver was pushed out, “Who are you?” a male voice angrily demanded.

  Seeing the gun, they were all immediately on the defensive, raising their hands to show they were unarmed.

  Jeremy bent down to make eye contact with the armed resident. Through the mail slot he saw piercing blue bespectacled eyes and a furiously suspicious glare, “We’re looking for help.” He spoke quickly, “Our automobile broke down a few miles out of town, and we need a place to stay for the night and someone who can help us with repairs.”

  “You’re at the wrong place.” The armed man replied, “Go to the inn. This is a clinic.”

  “We went to the fucking inn!” Michael told him.

  Gavin put a calming hand on Michael’s shoulder, “We were told to go away.”

  “Yeah, he told us to leave town.” Jeremy confirmed

  “You should.” The man stated and retracted the revolver from the slot. He slid the slot closed.

  Seeing the slot close, Michael sprinted up to the door, “THAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM – WE CAN’T!” he bellowed.

  Michael prepared himself to start screaming, but heard the mechanical sounds of locks being undone.

  “I think he’s opening the door.” Jeremy was as surprised as the rest of them.

   After the removal of far too many locks, the door was pulled open. Inside stood a tall man with light brown hair tied back with a black ribbon into a ponytail that reached the base of his neck. His short beard was close cut and well kept, and beneath his long white lab coat he had a white dress shirt and black silk vest. Around his neck was a western tie and in a front pocket of the lab coat was a folded stethoscope. He still held the revolver in his hand, but it was loosely at his side.

  “Come in.” He gestured with the gun.

  The lads looked to each other hesitantly, and wordlessly decided it was best to comply.

  Once inside, the man went to work locking the door. It was a bit of a process; lock, deadbolt, chain, and finally a long beam lifted and placed to bar the door.

  “Just who are trying to keep out?” Jeremy commented nervously.

  The man looked at him slowly, as if thinking through his reply, “Everything.” He looked less intimidating now, with his shoulders slumped, eyes bloodshot, and face gaunt with fatigue. He appeared as if he hadn’t slept for days.

  “Oh, ok…” Jeremy was only further unnerved by that response.

 

  The interior of the clinic was large and well lit. Dark woods and velvet trimmed the furniture and décor. The main area they entered was a big rectangular room that extended back into the main treatment area. Eight beds, four along each wall, were set up with curtained wheeled dividers separating them. All the beds were currently empty and clean, and the far wall held locked cabinets and shelves filled with medical equipment and medicine. There was a door on that wall as well.

  Closer to the entrance, on the left, was a staircase leading upwards with a hallway next to it. The hallway went back further into the house, but from where they were all currently standing, French doors were visible, showing an office and bookcases beyond.

  On the right was a living room-like waiting room, with plush velvet couches, bookcases, and a low coffee table. Next to the waiting room was an open set of double doors leading to another hallway that lead back.

  “So who are you three?” The man asked them as he stowed his revolver into a shoulder holster.

  The lads quickly introduced themselves.

  The man nodded, “You’ll want to speak with Trevor Collins. He’s a mechanic. You’re lucky, he’s here right now.” He walked over to the open doors by the waiting room, “Mr. Collins!” he called.

 

  A tall lanky man with dark brown hair and eyes emerged. His arms, face, and overalls were covered in soot, “What is it Doc?” he asked with a cheerful grin, “Your incinerator should be ready to fire up again soon enough, so you don’t need to worry about the stin–” he noticed the visitors, “Oh! Hello!”

  “Trevor, these men had their automobile break down just out of town, and I think it would be best for them to leave as soon as they can.” The man told Trevor.

  “We hit a pothole and the axel is all splintered.” Michael explained.

   “Oh that’s bad.” Trevor nodded, “But I can’t help with that. If you had engine trouble, that would be my deal, but for a broken axel you’ll want a replacement. That means a carpenter.” He turned back to the man, “Jack would be able to do it, if he has the right kind of wood available.”

  “They said they went to the inn and were turned away. I fear paranoia won’t have Mr. Pattillo helping them.” The man replied.

  Trevor nodded knowingly.

  The man turned back to the lads, “You three can spend the night here. Once night falls my doors don’t open. So if you want to try and find someone else who can help you, you have before sundown.” He began to lay out his rules, “If you are planning on heading outside again, before you leave I’ll need some blood from each of you. Consider it payment for lodging.”

  “Our blood?” Gavin cocked his head with disbelief.

 “We don’t even know your name!” Michael pointed out.

  “Doctor Ryan Haywood.” The man introduced himself, “And I will need that blood as soon as you can give it.”

  “Why?” Jeremy asked the obvious question.

  Trevor chuckled, “I’m gonna go and finish up the work on the incinerator, can’t stand needles.” He shuddered and left.

  Ryan was unphased as he moved over to a cabinet full of medical equipment and began to pull out syringes and vials, “You haven’t been in town too long. Your blood might not be tainted.”

  “Oh God, it is a pox, isn’t it?!” Gavin cried out.

  Ryan shook his head, “No, not a pox. Although I can’t quite figure out what it is, it corrupts flesh like nothing I can find in any book.” He pulled on white gloves and waved them over to the nearest bed, “If your blood is untainted then it may hold the cure… Otherwise…”

  “Otherwise what?” Jeremy’s anxiety was rising.

  “Well it may provide a clue as to how it has been spreading, and why some are so drastically faster affected than others.” Ryan told them quite clinically.

  “You really think we could be infected already?” Gavin clutched his hands tightly to his chest.

  “No, but I won’t rule it out.” Ryan stated.

  Michael gave it some thought, “And you can’t use your own blood because you’re infected too, aren’t you?”

  Ryan swallowed and looked away, “The blood of every resident in this town is tainted. My time is limited. I must find a cure, or a vaccine, or some form of containment while I still can.” He gestured to the bed, “Please sit.”

  Michael rolled up his sleeve and seated himself first, “Just what does this disease do?”

  “Yeah, all you said was that it corrupts the flesh.” Jeremy added.

  Ryan tied a ribbon around Michael’s bicep, and removed his needle’s protective cap, “No need to frighten you. Like I said, you probably don’t have it. I’ve confirmed it’s carried in the blood, so unless a resident’s blood has contacted yours, you should be safe.” He began to draw Michael’s blood and filled four vials. Taping a piece of cotton over the wound, he motioned for Michael to leave, “Who’s next?”

  Jeremy sighed and sat down, offering his arm, “If it’s in the blood, then how does a whole town get it?”

  “That I don’t know. I suspected the water, but found nothing, so I began testing our fish. Nothing there either. The only place I find it, is in blood.” Ryan’s practiced hand swiftly finished drawing his blood, and bandaged him as well.

  Gavin groaned, but took Jeremy’s place, ensuring to look away as the needle was inserted, “Alright, but what symptoms should we be looking for then? You say you don’t want to scare us, but that just makes us even more afraid!”

  Ryan chuckled at that, “I understand your concern. Trust me, I do.” He pulled out the needle and patched Gavin up. He took a good look at the cut on Gavin’s nose, “Do you want a bandage for your nose as well?”

  Gavin shrugged, “It’s all dry now. It’s fine. But stop changing the subject.”

  “I wasn’t changing the subject!” Ryan insisted as he carefully carried the vials of blood away through the door set in the wall with all the medical equipment. He returned shortly after, removing his gloves and tossing them onto a free bed, “You only need to worry if you notice unusual sores, or skin discolouration, or have a sudden onset of high fever and migraines. Of course, that could signal any multitude of diseases, but other than direct inspection of your blood, I find those symptoms are the most telling.”

  “Good to know.” Michael muttered.

  Trevor returned with a large toolbox in hand, “She’s all good to go!” he announced.

  “Thank you.” Ryan nodded, “Stay safe out there.”

  “Always do.” Trevor saluted, and headed to the door. He waited patiently as Ryan hurried over to unlock it.

  Once the mechanic left, Ryan dutifully relocked every lock.

  “Ok quick question.” Jeremy held up a finger, “Why so much security? I was assuming looters, but this seems a bit much.”

  “This disease, eventually it drives you mad. Makes you violent and irrational.” Ryan informed them, “Only gets worse at night too.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Michael was sarcastic.

  “Tons.” Ryan agreed. He put his hands into the pockets on his lab coat, “So I guess I should show you guys where you can spend the night… unless you want to sleep on one of these beds.” He weakly waved at the clinical beds, “This building was once a hotel, but after it was built, it was immediately sold off before it actually got any patrons. That was long before I got here, but I got it real cheap from the mayor when I did. Turned it into a clinic.” He adjusted his glasses, “Superstitious locals said it was cursed or haunted depending who you asked, but I’ve been here for five years now, and it’s all unfounded.” He sniffed and looked back as the lads, “You can each have your own room up on the second floor. They might be a bit dusty, but all the sheets are clean.”

  “Do we need keys?” Gavin asked.

  Ryan shook his head, “No, I removed most of the locks. Didn’t want patients locking themselves in, and me out. Especially the younger ones, they tended to think it was fun.”

  “So it’s just you taking care of this whole place?!” Gavin realized.

  “Only for the last few weeks or so. Before my staff got too sick to help.” Ryan told them.

  “Oh.” Gavin regretted asking the question.

  Ryan gave a weak smile, “Don’t worry about it. Just worry about yourselves.”

  “Sorry, though.” Gavin offered.

  “I said don’t worry about it.” Ryan insisted. He removed his hands from his pockets and gestured towards the stairs, “Can I show you your rooms? Unless you want to head out while it’s still bright out?”

  Michael chuckled, “Yeah, and go where? Sounds like the safest place to be is right here. Inside and away from the crazy sick people.”

  Jeremy pointed at Michael and nodded, “What he said.”

  Ryan nodded in understanding, and headed to the stairs, “I’m sorry you three happened upon this mess. I hope none of you contract the illness, it hardly seems fair.” He took the stairs slowly, ensuring he was easy to follow.

  “We hope so too.” Jeremy put on a sympathetic smile, “But fingers crossed that you get a cure soon. We saw all those fresh graves, and I can’t begin to imagine what a tragedy this whole thing has been. Especially in a town this small.”

  Ryan remained quiet, seemingly tired of the topic. As they reached the landing of the second floor he pointed down a hall, “All those rooms are empty, but clean. Take whichever you like, but don’t make too much of mess.

  If you need me, I’ll either be downstairs in the lab looking over your blood, or,” He pointed down another hall, “My room which is at the end on the left over there.”

  “Thank you.” Michael nodded.

  “Yeah, thank you Doctor Haywood.” Jeremy added.

  “We really appreciate the hospitality.” Gavin stuck out his hand.

  Ryan shook his hand, “Please just call me Ryan, and it’s not like one man can use so many rooms anyway.”

  Gavin smiled, “Thanks, Ryan!”

  Ryan gave a nod and returned downstairs.  Once back on the main floor, he turned down the hallway that ran parallel to the stairs and continued until he was before a locked door. He paused to listen for movement on the floor above, mentally following the direction of their footsteps until he could be sure that the three strangers had made their way into rooms.

  Certain that they were busy making themselves at home, he took out a large keyring and unlocked the door, revealing stone steps down into the basement. Wrinkling his nose at the fishy smell that escaped he took a steadying breath and began to climb down.

  It was dark at the bottom; the only light was the flickering red glow of the furnace. It was a massive monstrous thing, capable of heating all four storeys of the building and every room within during even the coldest of winters.

  Next to the furnace Ryan had set up a workbench of sorts. On it sat an oil lantern that he lit, before removing his lab coat and tossing it onto the table. From underneath he pulled out a thick leather apron, donning it then pulling on heavy work gloves that covered his arms up to the elbows. On the floor beside the workbench was a large metal washbasin he dragged out into the open, picking it up in one hand and his lantern in the other.

  The incinerator was repaired, that meant he could clean this mess before the smell got any worse. It had already been a day, and the stink was only growing.

 

  Lantern in hand, he travelled further into the gloom.

  His patients – if they could still be called that – were quick to pick up on his presence. They always were. Inhuman howls, shrieks, growls, and moans started up, only increasing in volume as he neared the makeshift cages.

  Those that could be chained or tied up, were. The others were in enclosures made of timber and chicken wire. Far too flimsy for Ryan’s comfort, but so far he had yet to have an escapee.

  Each cage had a name hastily scrawled on it in his own hand. It was a measure to ensure he never forgot the people these creatures used to be… and what fate was inevitably in store for him should he fail.

  He passed by the cages ensuring to keep a safe distance from the tentacles, claws, and segmented limbs that reached out to try and ensnare him.

  He’d had a few close calls in the past, and had learned to remain vigilant. Tentacles could reach father than you’d think, and were near impossible to detach once they grabbed hold.

  It’s why he now always carried a small knife.

 

  Ryan approached a cage with an unmoving resident inside. He raised his lantern to take in the mess, and double check that it was indeed dead. It just took one time assuming something was dead only to get viciously attacked by it seconds later to make a man cautious.

  If the surprisingly advanced state of decay was anything to go by, this creature was most definitely dead. It was no more than a human sized gelatinous mass filled with teeth and stiff spines.

  He crouched and sighed solemnly, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Berkshire.”

  Putting his lantern and washbasin down on the floor, he unlocked and opened her cage. He started the gruesome work of cleaning up her rapidly dissolving remains. Her black blood spilled out onto the floor into inky pools of foul smelling sludge as he jostled her body.

  The work went smoothly until some chicken wire caught his glove, pulling it off and dropping it in the blood.

  Ryan groaned, and begrudgingly reached for it, only to hiss and retract his hand as the same piece of wire sliced his forearm.

  “Shit!” he cursed. He shook off his other glove in order to inspect the wound.

  It was shallow, but deep enough to bleed. Black pearls of blood welled up, dotting the length of the scratch.

  Doctor Haywood couldn’t help but stare.

  His blood had been black for almost a week now, he’d known this – known it was inevitable.

  But seeing it was a grim reminder of just how little time he had left.

  If he didn’t find a cure, and soon, no one would.


	2. Tentacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lads explore the clinic, and find a patient.

  Michael launched himself onto the queen size bed with a satisfied FWUMP. This was probably the most luxurious and comfortable bed he’d ever laid on.

  Shame that it had to be in these circumstances. The chances of him actually getting any sleep tonight were slim.

  Flipping himself over onto his back, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

  Why did the three of them always end up in these kinds of situations? Were they just bad luck? Some kind of universal magnet for misfortune?

  Or, he thought, maybe it was just Gavin. He had been the one driving, and while he’d also won them the automobile in the first place, he was always trouble.

  Michael snorted and smiled; Gavin was a mess, but no more than the rest of them. After all, they were all stuck here.

  As if summoned, Gavin appeared in his open doorway, “These rooms are lush!”

  Michael opened his eyes and sat up.

  “Who woulda guessed some paranoid doctor lived in this kinda comfort?” Gavin continued.

  “Well it was supposed to be a hotel.” Michael reminded him.

  Gavin sat on the bed next to him, “Yeah, supposed to… But who builds such a big hotel in such a small village? No wonder it didn’t last long enough to even open, but why didn’t the inn move here?”

  “Maybe it was too expensive to upkeep for an inn.” Michael mused, “A doctor makes much more, and with this large of a clinic I bet people come in from all over.”

  Jeremy poked his head in the door, “What are you guys talking about?”

  “How weird this whole thing is.” Michael gestured to the room.

  Jeremy stepped in and leaned against the wall, “Ya tellin’ me.”

  Michael took a long glance out the window at the darkening sky and changed the topic, “Just what are we supposed to do for the night? We’re locked in here with Doctor Creepy, and I sure as hell won’t be sleeping.”

  “He’s just stressed out and sleep deprived. Give him a break.” Jeremy chided him.

  “Do you think he’d mind if we explore?” Gavin quietly suggested.

  “Explore?” Jeremy asked.

  “Yeah, just see what this creepy old place is like.” Gavin explained with a shrug.

  “I’m sure he’d _love_ to have three strangers snooping around his home.” Michael rolled his eyes.

  “We don’t have to touch anythin’, just look. Like we know he’s goin’ to have lots of equipment and stuff, it could be cool.” Gavin urged, “Better than being in separate rooms and staring at the ceiling.”

  “What about being all in the same room and staring at the ceiling?” Jeremy suggested with a smirk.

  “That sounds much better.” Michael returned the smirk.

  “Oh come on, lads! You’re killin’ me!” Gavin whined.

  Michael shook his head, “I’m not gonna risk getting on the bad side of the guy letting us stay here basically for free. Plus, he most definitely knows how to use a scalpel and make our deaths look accidental.”

  “And we know that he has an incinerator.” Jeremy added.

  “And that too.” Michael agreed.

  Gavin threw up his hands and then crossed them across his chest, “You’re all no fun.”

  Jeremy sighed, “Fiiiinnne… If it makes you happy I’ll go with you.”

  Gavin’s pout turned into a bright smile, “Really?” he looked to Michael, “What about you?”

  Michael gave a long groan, “Fine! But _when_ we get into shit for it, I’m selling you guys out to save my own ass!” he let Gavin drag him to his feet.

 

  They crept from room to room on the second floor.

  “This is stupid.” Michael said with impatience, “Every room is a bedroom. Like a place that used to be a hotel could be expected to have.” He followed them into yet another bedroom, “And they’re all almost completely fucking identical!”

  “At least it’s something to do.” Jeremy tried to justify.

  Michael turned one him, “Yeah? And what if one of these rooms used to have somebody sick?! With this blood disease?! We could just be putting ourselves at risk!”

  “Michael, Ryan said it was blood contact that transmitted it.” Jeremy reasoned.

  “He also said he didn’t know if it was the only way it spread! Just that he hadn’t found any other way!” Michael brought up.

  Jeremy became worried at that, “Oh, that’s a good point. Gavin?”

  Gavin made some vague hand gestures and a non-committal noise.

  Michael punched his arm, “If we get sick, it’s your fucking fault!”

  “Ow! That hurt, Michael!”

  “Yeah, well maybe that’s just the violent behaviour this disease causes finally getting to me!” Michael flailed his arms to punctuate the point.

 

  Checking room after room, they made their way around to where Ryan had said his own room was. It was the only door on this floor they hadn’t yet tried.

  “Ok, Gavin, don’t even think about it.” Jeremy warned, “He said that’s his room.”

  “He also said to check it if we want to find him.” A sly smile played on Gavin’s lips, “That’s enough of an excuse as any.”

  Michael wordlessly threw up his hands and shook his head, but didn’t turn to leave.

  Gavin hovered his hand over the door, ready to knock.

  “And if he _is_ in there?! What are we going to say our reason for bothering him is?” Jeremy’s anxiety was rocketing.

  Gavin brought his hand closer to the door, eying them mischievously.

  “Gavin, don’t.” Jeremy warned.

  “If you do, it’s all you.” Michael wanted it known he was having no part in it.

  Gavin knocked once and then two more times in quick succession.

  The group froze.

  No answer.

  “See, he’s not even here.” Gavin grinned and tried the knob. It opened easily, revealing the doctor’s room.

  “That just means we don’t know where he is, and he could walk in on us at any time!” Jeremy’s support of Gavin’s exploration was quickly evaporating.

  Ryan’s room must have been intended to be a premium suite as it was almost twice as large as the rooms the lads had chosen. Although large, it was very cluttered. Filled with books, equipment, clothing, and papers on every surface and most of the floor.

  “What a slob.” Michael commented with slight judgement.

  “Hey, if I were him, I wouldn’t be worrying about cleaning up either.” Jeremy told him, “Crazy disease and all; needing a cure.”

  Michael shrugged, but didn’t appear convinced. Now in the room, he didn’t hesitate to step forward and take a closer look at some of the papers spread out on a desk.

  The papers were covered in strange images and symbols, none of which Michael recognised. Some of them had notes scrawled in messy handwriting with arrows, circles, and question marks as if someone was trying to decipher them.

  He held up a page so the other two could see, “What the fuck is this?”

  Gavin shrugged, but appeared unnerved by it, “I don’t like it.”

  “Is it some kind of witchcraft?” Jeremy approached for a closer look, “Gives me the fucking creeps.”

  “He’s a doctor, not a witch…” Gavin insisted.

  “What – What if he isn’t the doctor?” Michael suggested.

  “Wait, you implying Ryan isn’t a doctor? But that mechanic called him doc!” Jeremy pointed out.

  “Maybe he’s in on it.” Michael explained, “Because this sure as hell doesn’t look like anything medical. This pentagram shit with the flaming eye? Come on.” He pointed to one of the images.

  “Why would the mechanic be in on it?” Jeremy crossed his arms and cocked his head in anticipation of an explanation.

  Michael shrugged, “I dunno, man. Free drugs?”

  “That doesn’t make any bloody sense. Why take us in then? Maybe these are from sort of hobby or novel… Or a patient of his drew them at some point?” Gavin tried to remain reasonable, “Small towns get crazy folk too.”

  With a scoff, Michael began to go through more of the papers and find similar symbols, “So why the fuck does he have so much of it?” he lifted up additional pages, “Dude’s into something weird! Maybe it’s Satanic!”

  “Ok, now that’s jumping to conclusions!” Gavin scolded.

  Jeremy fell into thought, “Well now, hey… Maybe it is? Think about it. The illness? The locked church and new graves? And he just lets us stay here for a _blood_ price?”

  “You two are mental.” Gavin shook his head, “I don’t know what these doodles are, but it definitely ain’t that!” he strode from the room, “We have a third and fourth floor to explore. Stop snooping through our host’s rubbish.”

  “Oh ‘cause _we’re_ the snooping ones?!” Jeremy went after him, leaving Michael to put the papers back and close the door behind them.

  “He says that as he urges us to snoop further.” Michael smirked and followed Gavin to the stairs.

  Passing by a window to get to the stairs, they saw it was already dark outside. Thankfully, gas lamps lit every hallway inside. It was a warm, if gloomy, glow that made shadows dance and overactive imaginations see movement in the corners of their eyes.

  The lads were already beginning to psyche themselves out by the time they reached the third floor.

  “Anyone else suddenly extremely aware of how Ryan said the residents of this town thought this place was haunted?” Jeremy spoke in a whisper.

  “Shut up, Jeremy.” Gavin snapped.

  Michael immediately jumped on the atmosphere of unease with a devilish smirk, “Yeah, just imagine how many people must have died in here!”

  “ _Michael…_ ” Gavin turned to him with a glare.

  “Just saying. People die in clinics – it’s just how it is. And if this guy really is into Satanic rituals, just imagine all the fucked up shit he would have put patients through,”

  “Michael.” Jeremy warned.

  “Perfect for demonic sacrifice. He could blame their deaths on natural causes and no one would question it. Hell, even incinerate any evidence!” Michael continued to spin his tale, “Best of all, with this big’a building no one would hear any screams or cries for help either!”

  “You need to stop.” Jeremy told him.

  Gavin whimpered, “Not cool, Michael.”

  “There’s probably _tons_ of angry ghosts in here. Just waiting to,” Michael jumped at Gavin, jabbing his fingers into his friend’s sides, “Grab you!”

  Gavin shrieked, nearly jumping out of his skin, “MICHAEL! YOU BOLLOCKING IDIOT!” He took a moment to calm while Michael and Jeremy burst into laughter, “Don’t do that again!”

  Michael wiped tears from his eyes and worked to catch his breath, “You’re such a fucking moron!”

  “You knobhead! Don’t scare me like that!” Gavin scolded him, “It’s not nice!”

  “But it’s fucking funny.” Michael contended.

  “You scared the shit outta him.” Jeremy commented, “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing that.”

  “What he said.” Gavin pointed to Jeremy.

  Jeremy shook his head and clarified, “I mean right now. What if he hears us screaming and thinks something’s wrong? If he comes running in with his revolver, someone could get shot.”

  Michael nodded in understanding, “Although, if you’re gonna get shot anywhere, a clinic is a pretty good place for it.”

  “Not when it’s the bloody doctor who’s shooting you.” Gavin muttered. He rubbed his sides where Michael had jabbed him. His adrenaline was finally draining out of his system, and he busied himself by hurrying over to the next door.

  Michael crossed his arms, “We still doing this?”

  Gavin shrugged and pushed the door open. He froze in place before it was even fully open.

  Michael dropped his arms back to his sides, immediately noticing Gavin’s tension, “What is it?”

  Jeremy looked between them, “What?”

  “Um.” Gavin let go of the door, letting it swing fully open, as Michael and Jeremy stepped up behind.

 

  Inside was a hospital bed with thick padded leather straps restraining a male individual. The man was gagged, with straps on each wrist, ankle, and across his chest. An IV was in his arm, and when he realised it wasn’t his Doctor at the door, his eyes widened. He was of a thin build, exaggerated by extended bedrest, with fear filled eyes, and short messy brown hair.

  The lads watched as the man began to struggle against his restraints, making heavily muffled noises of complaint.

  “Holy fucking shit.” Jeremy didn’t believe it, “What – What do we do?”

  Michael stepped forward into the room, “We ungag him and see what’s up.”

  Gavin put a hand on his shoulder, “We should just leave. Pretend we didn’t see anything.”

  The gagged man increased the volume of his complaints and shook his head vigorously.

  “Are you fucking nuts?” Michael turned on Gavin, he extended an arm towards the man, “If he was a patient he wouldn’t be fucking gagged! We free him, find out what the fuck is going on, and get the fuck out of this nightmare!”

  Gavin opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a squawk.

  “That’s what I thought!” Michael said angrily and then walked over to the man, “We’ll get you out of here, ok?”

  The man continued to pull on his restraints.

  “Sir, calm down, it’s probably gonna be ok.” Michael reassured him, and pulled the gag off.

  As the gag was removed, the man’s mouth opened. He wordlessly choked, as if unable to swallow, staring at Michael with a silent plea for help.

  Nearing him further, Michael reached out to turn the man’s head and try to see what was wrong. Maybe he’d had a rag stuffed into his mouth?

  The man abruptly coughed, releasing a mass of thin whip-like black tentacles from somewhere deep within. They lashed out wildly towards Michael who threw his arms up to defend himself just in the nick of time.

  The tentacles had two rows of barbs running down their lengths, and when they struck Michael’s flesh, they tore through like razor wire.

 

  Everyone was screaming.

 

  Michael had jumped to the floor to escape the reach of the tentacles. It took a moment for his injuries to register, but when they did, his scream of horror turned to one of pain. The wounds burned, and he desperately kicked his way away.

  Gavin and Jeremy both ducked down and clumsily grabbed him in absolute panic. They were all shouting curses and screaming incoherently as they somehow managed to coordinate themselves well enough to get back into the hall and close the door.

  “BLOODY HELL!”

  “TENTACLES! IN. HIS. MOUTH.”

  “I’M BLEEDING!”

  Michael’s shout snapped Jeremy and Gavin back into focus. Their friend was injured. His forearms looked as if he’d been assaulted with a knife, and there was a long gash from his right temple down to his jaw.

  “Shit! Michael!” Jeremy frantically looked him over and tried to apply pressure to the slash wounds on his arms.

  Gavin was whipping around looking for something that could be of help, he found nothing, “Jeremy, quick, help me get him back downstairs! We need to get help!”

  “We need to find Ryan!” Jeremy agreed, and began to pull Michael onto his feet.

  “Fuck no!” Michael spat, “He has a fucking monster! He’s the one who probably made it!”

  Gavin took a shoulder, “All the medical supplies are downstairs! You need bandages!”

  They lifted Michael between them. It was messy, with him smearing blood on them both.

  Michael fought his way out of their arms, “Guys, I’m fine!” he pulled down his sleeves to cover the slowly oozing wounds on his forearms.

  “Help! Doctor Haywood! We need help!” Gavin began to holler in the hopes that he would be heard.

  Jeremy caught on to the tactic, and began to yell as well, “Help! We need help!”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Michael protested, “We don’t need him! I can put on a bandage myself! It’s not that bad!”

  “Oh fuck you! You’re bleeding from your face! He’s a doctor!” Jeremy loudly scolded him.

 

  Their shouts were heard as they made their way onto the second-floor landing. Footsteps pounded across wooden floor as Ryan sprinted to the staircase. He took the stairs two at a time, his expression turning from dread to a practiced professional mask of calm as he spotted them.

  If a doctor panicked, so did the patient.

 

  Ryan swooped in, pushing Gavin aside in order to take in Michael’s condition.

  “He was attacked!” Gavin tried to explain, “Black tentacles from a man’s mouth!”

  “They whipped him!” Jeremy elaborated.

  With Ryan having taken a quiet but stern control of the situation, they quickly travelled the rest of the way down and into the main treatment room.

  “Why do you have a chained-up tentacle mouth man?!” Gavin shouted at Ryan as Michael was guided onto a bed.

  Ryan didn’t acknowledge the question. Instead he rushed to his supply cabinets and grabbed a curved needle, surgical thread, and a fistful of cotton bandages. Tossing them on a table next to Michael’s bed he ran off to another cabinet, before returning with a bottle of alcohol and another filled with pills.

  Michael was scowling at his friends and the doctor as he used a sleeve to dab at the blood on his face.

  “What the hell are you keeping in that room upstairs?! Is that even a man? Was that _ever_ a man?” Jeremy attempted to interrogate.

  Ryan threaded the needle, poured some alcohol on it, and began to swiftly stitch the deepest appearing wound. Occasionally he would dab the area he was working on with an alcohol soaked bandage to clean some blood and disinfect, but it was clear he was pointedly avoiding their questions.

  “What the hell is going on?! Answer us!” Gavin demanded.

  Ryan finished stitching the four large gashes on Michael’s right arm, and moved onto his left, “I can ask you the same!” He angrily spat at Gavin before returning to his work.

  “What?! You have a bloody monster upstairs!” Gavin was livid, “It was a MAN with TENTACLES in his MOUTH!”

  Ryan turned on Gavin with a snarl, “Who goes through another man’s home and place of work without permission?! Have you no sense of decency and manners?!”

  “Decency and manners?!” Jeremy said with complete astonishment that the doctor was ignoring the subject.

  “He had TENTACLES! MOUTH TENTACLES!” Gavin was basically screeching in frustration at this point, “Demonic spawn!”

  Ryan finished the final stitch on Michael’s left arm a bit more violently than he really should have, eliciting a pained response from his patient, “That is a very ill Mr. Denecour you are talking about, and I will not have you calling him a monster or demon.” He forcefully steadied his voice and his hands before moving to the gash on Michael’s head, “Understood?”

  “Ill?! He has tentacles!” Gavin shouted at him.

  Jeremy made the realization first, “Gavin,” He turned to his friend, face pale.

  “What?!”

  “That’s the disease.” Jeremy told him and turned to Ryan for confirmation.

  Ryan gave them a slow nod as he worked on applying bandages to Michael, “More or less. It affects everyone differently.”

  Gavin went bone white, “And that’s not something you could have warned us about?!”

  “I told you; no need to frighten you.” Ryan calmly reminded without looking up.

  Gavin erupted into frustrated sputtering.

  Ryan tied off the last bandage and turned to him, “Would you have even believed me? Without seeing it yourself?”

  Gavin tried to protest but came up with nothing, so he crossed his arms instead.

  Ryan stood with a deep breath, wiping his hands clean of Michael’s blood, “I need to go and ensure Mr. Denecour doesn’t manage to escape his restraints. You two should stay with Michael. He’s lost a fair bit of blood, and needs rest. I have water and sugar in the kitchen – mix him some. It will help with the fatigue he’ll feel once the adrenaline fades.” He picked up the pill bottle he had brought earlier and turned to Michael, “Take two of these. It will help prevent infection. God knows human bites are filthy, and this might just be worse. The last thing we need is you dying of fever after I’ve already sewn you back together.” He tucked the soiled cloth into a pocket and left for the stairs without so much as glancing back at them.

 

  “I don’t like him.” Gavin muttered as he watched the doctor go.

  Jeremy didn’t care what Gavin thought as he looked down at their bandaged friend, “You doing alright, Michael?”

  “Fucking fantastic.” Michael groaned and shifted his position, “Fuck you guys.” he ran some fingers down the bandage on the side of his face.

  “We got you help!” Gavin argued, “Or you gonna say you could do stitches on your own?!”

  “I told you not to call him!” Michael retorted.

  “Ok, calm down. It’s done.” Jeremy pleaded, “Take your pills.” He told Michael.

  Michael rolled his eyes and poked at his forearm. The sting of Ryan’s disinfectant was finally dying down and his pain was ebbing. He thought back to how Ryan had dodged their questions about the town’s disease, “Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell people about this kind of shit? Get help, don’t try and handle it yourself.”

  “I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t believe him.” Jeremy admitted, “Would you?”

  “Well, no. But he could have showed us proof.” Michael reasoned, “Not some vague babble about ‘blood corruption’.”

  “Good point.” Jeremy had to agree.

  “Good thing you lost blood and didn’t get any, then.” Gavin attempted to articulate the thought.

  Michael and Jeremy laughed.

  “How and when do you ever ‘get’ blood?” Jeremy chuckled.

  “You know what I mean! He didn’t get bled on.” Gavin clarified.

  “You think I’m gonna have some badass scars?” Michael interrupted.

  Gavin gave him a sad smile, “No one will believe how you got it.”

  Michael laughed, “I’ll say it was a knife fight.”

  “A knife fight you lost.” Jeremy chuckled.

  “Nah man, you should see the other guy! His face was all fucked up!” Michael exclaimed with a grin.

  That got them all laughing. 

 


	3. Buccal Mass

  _It was dark, cold, and wet. Swirling inky shadows curled around him, barely hiding the writhing masses within. They were shapeless, shifting, and something about them filled his gut with the overwhelming feeling of wrongness._

 _They were nearing him, reaching out to touch and test him. No. They were_ tasting _him._

_Fear sunk in. There was too many, too close! Every time he recoiled and moved away, there were only more to greet him. Blindly reaching for him._

_Where was he? How did he get here?_

_How could be escape?!_

 

  Michael awoke feeling stiff with his wounds still sore. He felt absolutely exhausted, completely drained.

  Forcing his eyes open, he saw where he was and groaned.

  This fucking nightmare was yet to end.

 

  Gavin was fast asleep on the clinic bed next to his own, while Jeremy was nowhere to be seen. Light from the windows signaled it was day again, but Michael couldn’t tell if it was early morning or simply overcast.

  “Gavin.” He gently called to check if his friend was awake. Receiving no response, he swung his legs from his bed and attempted to get back onto his feet. His head spun a bit, his vision going black for a split second, but after a breath to steady himself, he was more or less ok again.

  Standing and stretching, he debated trying to find Jeremy, but didn’t know where he would start. Had he gone to sleep in his room? Was he with Ryan somewhere wrangling Mr. Tentacle Face?

  If he could help it, Michael wasn’t going to spend another day in the same building as that monster.

  Gently stretching his arms and spine he overheard two voices drifting out the door at the back of the clinic.

  Curious, and hoping to find someone to complain to, Michael made his way over to the door. He remembered that it was the same one where Ryan had taken their blood samples the night before.

  The door opened into a short hallway with two doors on opposite walls. The door to the left was closed, but the one on the right was ajar.

  He could recognise Jeremy’s voice from within.

  “So it gets really bad then, doesn’t it?” Jeremy asked the other resident of the room.

  Michael pushed the door open and saw Jeremy sitting at a long lab table next to Ryan. Ryan was bent over a microscope, with an open notebook next to him. The room itself wasn’t small, but the amount of equipment and storage containers made it claustrophobic and difficult to navigate.

  Jeremy heard the door open, “Hey, Michael.” He greeted him, “How ya feelin’?”

  Ryan looked up at Michael, curious.

  Michael shrugged, “Sore, but ok.”

  Ryan stood and came over to him. He gently laid his hand on Michael’s forehead and gave him a quick visual once-over, “After breakfast I’ll want to change your bandages.” He told him.

  “Yeah, sure.” Michael agreed to it, “What were you two doing in here?”

  “This is Ryan’s lab.” Jeremy explained, “I was curious as to what he’s doing with our blood, and just what is known about this disease.”

  “An extra pair of eyes can always be of use. Even if your medical knowledge is limited to basic first aid.” Ryan stated.

  Michael didn’t want to think about the tentacles in the patient’s mouth again, so he changed the subject, “Speaking of breakfast…”

  Ryan scratched his beard, “Unfortunately after the loss of our grocer, food’s become a bit limited. I hope you don’t mind tinned fish in oil, because that’s all I have left at this point.”

  Both Michael and Jeremy wrinkled their noses at the thought.

  “Maybe I won’t eat just yet, then.” Michael replied, “Wait until I’m hungry enough that I no longer care just what I’m eating.”

  Ryan shrugged, “Suit yourselves.” He returned back to his seat before the microscope, “Feel free to raid the pantry and kitchen, but you’re unlikely to find anything but fish, tea, salt, and sugar.” He seemed to think something over, and turned to face the two of them once more, “Unless you three want to go out and find something fresh?” he tried not to look too hopeful.

  “Fresh?” Michael scowled in confusion.

  Ryan nodded, “This is a fishing town. I’m sure no one would mind if you… borrow some rods and maybe a boat.” He told them and then his eyes lit up, “Or, if you time it right, you can head over the rocks down by the Wailing Cave at low tide and get mussels. We’re also surrounded by farmland, and while the animals have probably picked most of the fields clean, I’m sure you could find a couple vegetables…? Not that I endorse theft, of course!” He quickly added, “But extreme times call for equally extreme measures.”

  Michael and Jeremy shared a look, trying to gauge what the other thought.

  “I like fishing.” Jeremy shrugged at Michael.

  Michael crossed his arms and shrugged back, “I don’t want to be on a boat all day. Let’s wake Gavin and see what he thinks.”

  “You three could split up.” Ryan offered, “It’s far safer here during the day. Those affected by the disease seem to dislike direct sunlight.”

  Michael cocked his head, remembering that Ryan had told them he was infected too, “Does that include you as well?”

  Ryan’s expression lost all excitement and regained its previous professional detachment. His unflinching mask returned, “It does,” he stated flatly.

  Jeremy gave Michael a disappointed glare. What kind of asshole reminded someone of their quickly approaching disfiguration and death?!

  Michael caught the glare, and realised what his words had done, “Uh, sorry. I was just- nevermind.”

  Ryan turned back to his notebook with a sigh, “Go do whatever.” He waved them away, “I’ve wasted enough time.”

  Jeremy’s glare intensified, drilling into Michael’s side.

  Michael tried to look apologetic, but said no more, leaving the room with Jeremy on his heels.

 

  Returning to the large treatment room they found Gavin awake. He lay on his bed with his hands behind his head, and appeared to be absently staring at the ceiling.

  Jeremy closed the hallway door behind himself so that Ryan would be less likely to overhear them, “What the fuck, Michael?!”

  “I said I’m sorry!”

  Gavin propped himself up on an elbow, “Ey? What happened?”

  “I had just gotten him talking and being nice too! He was acting like a real person, and then you go and brutally remind him his fate is the guy he has locked up on the third floor!” Jeremy scolded.

  “Micoo…” Gavin frowned at him.

  “Oh shut up, Gav. He’s a fucking weirdo anyway, what does it matter?” Michael argued, “Let’s just go find something to eat, then grab whoever the fucking carpenter in this town is and force him to help us.”

  Gavin sat up, “I could grab a bite. What do we have?”

  “The Doc’s more or less asked us to go scavenge what we can.” Jeremy informed him, “Unless you want old tinned fish and salt.”

  Gavin frowned in disgust, “I vote to go and scavenge.”

  “We never asked where that cave is.” Michael realised, “Gav and I could go pull mussels off the rocks while you go an’ fish.”

  Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck, “I kinda rather we didn’t split up. I’ll come with you guys.”

  “Scared of tentacle men?” Michael softly jabbed. If anyone was afraid, it was him. His bandages were proof enough of that. He rubbed the cotton on one forearm absently.

  “Yeah, I really am.” Jeremy admitted without shame, “Especially after talking with Ryan about some of his other patients that he literally has to have caged up in the basement.”

  “Wot?!” Gavin’s eyes went wide, “There’s more of them?!”

  “Fucking Christ!” Michael swore, “I fucking told you he’s a freak.”

  “What else is he gonna do with ‘em?!” Jeremy protested, “They attack anyone they see!”

  “I don’t like knowin’ there’s a basement full of ‘em…” Gavin muttered.

  “More reason to leave this fucking shit-show as soon as possible.” Michael was uncomfortable with that knowledge as well.

 

  A deep chime resonated throughout the building, making them all jump and curse before they realised it had to be the doorbell.

  Ryan hurried out from his lab and jogged over to the front door. He pulled out his revolver and slid the mail slot open to see who was waiting outside.

  “Jack?!” he exclaimed and quickly put the revolver away to unlock the door.

 

  The lads recognised the innkeeper from the day before as he stepped into the clinic. The only difference was, today he had a long strip of cloth tied around his head, covering his left eye.

  Ryan rushed to relock the door behind him, “What happened?!”

  Jack saw the three strangers and squinted at them suspiciously, “I see they found shelter with you.”

  “They said you chased them away,” Ryan explained as he locked the final lock. He straightened and went over to face Jack, “But what happened to you?” his hands went up to the cloth over Jack’s eye, and Jack flinched away.

  “Not in front of the out of towners, maybe?” Jack deflected Ryan’s hands.

  “Did Geoff–?” Ryan began to ask.

  Jack cut him off “No, it’s not Geoff’s doing. It’s the corruption.”

  Ryan nodded, “I can inspect you in my lab.” He turned to the lads, “You three go and find yourselves breakfast in the meantime.”

  “Do NOT have to tell us twice.” Michael said and beelined for the door. Whatever was under that cloth wrap, he knew he did not want to see it.

  Jeremy and Gavin felt similarly, and after quick awkward attempts at goodbyes they hurried after Michael.

 

  Ryan led Jack forward into the claustrophobic lab, closing the door behind him. He gestured for Jack to sit on a wooden stool and pulled one out for himself.

  Jack sat down and took a deep breath, “After Geoff… Well I was hoping maybe my lack of symptoms meant I was lucky enough to be spared.” Shaking fingers went up to his makeshift bandage. He hesitated, fingertips brushing the cloth.

  Ryan slowly reached over, offering to remove the cloth for him.

  Jack lowered his hands and nodded.

  Carefully, Ryan pulled the cloth up and off of Jack’s head. He did his best not to let his horror at what was beneath, show.

  At first glance, maybe it could be mistaken to simply be swollen, but the skin was not bruised or blushed. A bulbous fleshy mass had replaced the man’s eye. His eyelids had fused together and pushed forward, leaving only a sphincter-like opening in the center that never fully closed. Inside, something black and shiny moved beneath.

  Ryan forced himself to swallow, “Can – d-do you have control over it?”

  Jack nodded, and demonstrated.

  The shape inside his eye socket pushed forward out of his fused eyelid, revealing that it was a massive beak. He turned it side to side, tilted it up and then down. He then opened the beak, closed it, and opened it again.

  Ryan went cold, and watched the beak retract once again to its resting position, “Squid.” He forced out.

  “Squid?” Jack asked.

  “It’s the buccal mass of a squid. The mouth parts and surrounding muscle.” Ryan did his best to explain.

  Jack let out a hard exhale, “So I now have a squid mouth instead of an eye?”

  Ryan nodded. He grabbed a magnifying glass and tongue depressor off of his desk, and shifted closer. His natural curiosity returning after his initial shock.

  Jack obliged him and let him inspect the beak further.

  After having Jack open and close the beak a few more times, Ryan leaned back, “As far as I can tell, all the pieces are there. It even has mollusk equivalent of a tongue – the radula. D-Do you know if the mouth is functional?”

  Jack’s remaining eye gave Ryan an incredulous glare, “No, Ryan. I haven’t shoved food in my eye!”

  “I’m just saying–”

  “No. Not happening.”

  “If it doesn’t lead anywhere you could spit it–”

  “Ryan!”

  Ryan put his hands up in surrender, giving up the argument, “Okay, okay. I was just curious.” He put down his hands, “I can give you an eyepatch for the time being. Other than that… are you in pain?”

  Jack shook his head, “Not anymore. I was ready to swallow a bullet last night, but Geoff kept me sane enough not to.”

  Ryan nodded sympathetically, “How is Geoff?”

  “Still Geoff.” Jack replied.

  “Has his condition worsened at all?”

  “No, not as far as I can tell, but he’s still pissed at you.”

  “Any chance he’d be willing to come in for a check up?”

  “Only if you can promise he won’t be leaving sober.”

  Ryan couldn’t promise that. All he had was pure ethanol, and that would just kill the man. Not that that would deter Geoff. If anything, he might consider it a bonus.

  A moment of silent thought passed between them. Neither knew what else to say or do.

  So Jack asked the obvious question, “Has there been any progress on a cure?”

  Ryan solemnly shook his head, “No. After Geoff, I didn’t want to risk experimenting on someone uncorrupted again. And those who are corrupted… Well, they either die or show no progress.”

  Jack thought it over, “Good thing I’m no longer uncorrupted, then.” He forced a smile.

  “Jack, no. You don’t have to.” Ryan shook his head, “I can’t ask that of you.”

  “You don’t have to ask. How much more can I lose? Ryan, please. If I can help the people of this town, then let me.”

  “You’re still mostly whole, Jack. There is much the corruption can still take… including your life.” Ryan warned, “You saw firsthand what my last serum did to Geoff.”

  “The corruption will take whatever it pleases; I know what fate awaits me. Why does it matter if it happens now or later?” Jack argued.

  “Don’t you want as much time as you can get?” Ryan asked. He himself constantly wished to slow his corruption, and still it was moving far too fast.

  At least his corruption was still invisible on the surface. But that could not last long. Not at this rate.

  “Not if it means delaying the cure.”

  “Jack… There might not even be a cure…” Ryan painfully admitted.

  “Then we go down fighting!” Jack was angered by Ryan’s lack of faith. If their doctor gave up, who else could help them?

  Ryan sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Please, Ryan. I want to help you. I want to help everyone.”

  Ryan shook his head, but conceded, “Alright.” He stood and went over to his lab bench where a bunch of vials sat.

  “So you do have a new serum?” Jack watched Ryan lift up vials and inspect the handwritten labels.

  “Yes, but when I tried it on Mrs. Berkshire, she was dead within the hour.” Ryan found the vial he was looking for and held the cool glass close to himself, “Are you still willing to go through with this?”

  Jack rolled up a sleeve and held out his arm, “I’m not Mrs. Berkshire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	4. Fins

  The lads headed towards the water. Not having hung around to ask where the cave was, they didn’t have any other direction to go.

  This town may had been charming once, but now the boarded windows and deserted streets were only eerie. The cobbled streets all seemed to lead in the general direction of the water, so it was easy enough to navigate their way over to the docks.

  Fishing boats bobbed and bumped up against each other in the harbour, creating a dull drumming with each wave. The bell from a buoy occasionally rung, and the odd seagull cawed.

  It still felt far too silent. There should have been the sounds of commerce: fishermen haggling over hauls, boisterous tavern goers, maybe a beggar or two. Instead the wind only carried a singular almost cheerful whistle across the overcast sky.

  “You guys hear that whistling?” Jeremy picked up on it, “Sounds like someone.”

  Michael squinted in an attempt to find the whistler.

  Gavin’s eyes were better, “There!” he pointed to the end of a dock where an individual in a large straw hat was reclined and reading a book.

  The figure appeared male, and was leaned up against a pile of rope. He wore simple slacks, a collared shirt, and brown vest. At the end of the dock just within his line of sight, were four fishing rods mounted and cast into the water.

  They jogged up to him and called out to catch his attention.

  The young man pushed himself up and turned, cutting his tune short. He was the mechanic from the day before, “Oh hey!”

  “Hey, you’re the guy from yesterday.” Jeremy pointed out.

  The man stood with a small casual salute, “Trevor Collins.” He tipped his straw hat and marked his page with a ribbon.

  “You’re a mechanic, right?” Michael asked more to make conversation than as an actual question.

  “Yuppers!” Trevor nodded, “Still can’t help ya though. Like I said, an axel is a carpenter problem. Ask Jack about it.”

  “Wait, Jack’s the carpenter?” Jeremy looked to Michael and Gavin, “That might be a problem.”

  “Oh?” Trevor cocked his head.

  “Well aside from him being a jerk, he just arrived at the clinic all fucked up.” Michael explained with crossed arms, “Might make wood work harder if he doesn’t have depth perception…”

  “Wait, what happened to Jack?” Trevor was concerned.

  Jeremy shrugged, “All we know is he had an eyepatch. He didn’t want us to see, but it’s definitely the sickness.”

  “Well shit. That sucks.” Trevor stated flatly, “For you and for him.” A short silence hung in the air before he decided it was uncomfortable enough to break, “So is that why you guys came out looking for me out here?”

  “Naw man. We’re looking for food.” Jeremy told him.

  “The Doc doesn’t have much left, so he sent us on a mission.” Michael added.

  Trevor chuckled and gestured to the four rods he had set up, “Me too, boys. Haven’t caught much; pickin’s getting scarce. Feel free to cast any lines you have though, maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”

  “Ryan also mentioned some cryin’ cave that might have mussels. Do you know where it is?” Gavin asked.

  “The Wailing Cave?” Trevor saw them nod, “It’s up the coast that way, but be sure to time the tides. The current when the tide comes in can pull you under and into the cave. Those mussels become like knives.”

  “Is that why you’re fishing instead?” Jeremy gestured to the rods.

  “Honestly?” The mechanic shrugged, “I just don’t want to venture to far out on my own, ya know?”

  They nodded knowingly.

  “I don’t blame you, man.” Jeremy cautiously looked around, “But it’s safe during the day though, right?”

  “That’s what Ryan said.” Gavin added.

  “I mean, yeah… More or less, but it’s overcast today and, I figure if some of the infected get hungry enough, the nuisance of sunlight won’t do much to deter them. Like, it’s annoying,” Trevor pointed to his hat, “But manageable.”

  “Oh shit.” Michael hadn’t even considered that Trevor was affected as well.

  “Oh yeah,” Trevor nodded, “I’m full on freak. Just not insane yet.”

  “You might not go insane…” Gavin attempted to comfort him, “Ryan’s working on a cure.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s been working on that cure since the beginning. Not to begrudge the guy, but I don’t think there is one. Not one we can find in, like, the week we have left.”

  “He hasn’t given up.” Jeremy said.

  Trevor put up his hands placatingly, “Good for him. I won’t stop him.”

  Michael cocked his head, giving Trevor a closer look over. Aside from a slightly greyish pallor he didn’t appear inhuman, “You don’t look full freak.”

  Trevor smiled, “Well thank you, sir!” he chuckled with no humour, “Clothing can do wonders for a man.”

  “I’m sorry…?” Michael didn’t know how to respond, so he defaulted to apology.

  “Nah,” Trevor waved the apology away, “Wanna see?”

  “You’re not gonna shoot a tentacle outta your asshole or something, are ya?” Jeremy backed up, “Because we don’t need that in our lives.”

  Trevor burst out laughing, grabbing his chest.

  “We’ve seen tentacles come out of the other end.” Gavin informed him.

  He calmed his laughter and wiped away a tear, “Oh god, that sounds horrible. No, I do not shoot tentacles out of any of my orifices. At least not yet – I don’t know what the future holds.”

  “Hopefully not that!” Gavin said.

  Trevor shrugged, “We can all only hope.”

  “It’s nothing that will hurt us though, right?” Michael pushed up his sleeves and then pointed to the bandage on the side of his face, “Because the last guy fucked me up.”

  “Oh it’s just fins.” Trevor waved the concern away, “I mean, maybe I could slap you with ‘em, or poke you in the eye, but… Not really dangerous.” He began to unbutton his vest.

  “Fins? Really?” Gavin didn’t know if he should believe him.

  Trevor nodded, tossing his vest aside. He then started unbuttoning his shirt, “Wish I could use them somehow; then they wouldn’t be such a nuisance, ya know? They get all dry and achy if I leave them uncovered.” Now unbuttoned, he let his shirt drop onto the wooden boards of the dock, revealing his bare chest and arms.

  Down his spine and each forearm were long fins, folded flat. He flexed and they sprung up to reveal their true shape. At their base, each was black, and this black appeared to seep into the surrounding skin in a patchy, mottled fashion. The black then faded out towards the edge of each fin, turning into a vivid bloody crimson.

  The fin on his back stood maybe 8 inches at its apex, and there four of the supporting bones were elongated into sharpened spikes.

  “You sure you can’t use those to swim?” Jeremy’s eyes were wide and he forced his voice to sound normal. He looked between his friends to ensure that they were all seeing the same thing.

  Trevor scoffed, “Yeah, how? By flapping?” he mimed the action.

  Gavin swallowed, “It’s what fish do, innit?”

  Michael rubbed the back of his neck and looked to Gavin, “Fish don’t have fucking arms, idiot.”

  “Their fins are their arms!” Gavin argued, he looked to Jeremy for support, “Right?”

  “Don’t ask me! He’s not a fish!”

  Trevor shook his head with a sigh and smile. He picked up his shirt and began to don it. Halfway through buttoning it up, one of his fishing rods started quiver and bend.

  “OH!” Trevor abandoned his buttons and leapt to grab the pole.

  The fight to reel in the catch began. The pole arched with each violent jerk on the rod, and Trevor found himself having to lean back and plant his feet, “Ooh it’s a biggin!”

  “Need any help?!” Jeremy loved fishing and was ready to take over should Trevor’s arms get tired.

  “Nah, I’m goo–” Trevor’s reply was abruptly cut short as the rod he held was violently pulled forward, taking him with it. He didn’t even have time to shout out in shock before hitting the water.

 

  “TREVOR!” Jeremy yelped as Gavin shrieked and Michael hollered in surprise.

  Trevor broke the surface with a gasp, still disoriented by what had just occurred. He sputtered and coughed, reaching for the arms that had been lowered to help him up.

  With Jeremy grabbing one arm, and Michael the other, they heaved him back onto the dock.

  Laughing with disbelief, Trevor turned to thank the lads, but before he could a great deal of splashing sounded from the water.

  Catching all of their attention, they turned. Not thirty feet out from where they were, something large was angrily thrashing just below the waves.

  “It’s the size of an ‘orse!” Gavin’s eyes were wide with fear. He hurriedly backed up, pulling Michael in front of him.

  Michael slapped off Gavin’s hands but his attention was on the churning water, “The fuck is that thing?!”

  Trevor was just as baffled and terrified as the rest of them, “I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out!” he shook water from his arms and jogged out off of the dock and onto solid ground.

  They followed his example, leaving the wooden planks for the relative safety of stone. The thrashing continued for a few more seconds before finally relaxing and disappearing.

  “So you guys wanted to pick some mussels?” Trevor suggested with a forced grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Veins

  Ryan’s hands shook as he filled the syringe with the cream coloured serum.

  “Ryan,” Jack attempted to reassure him, but he himself was having second thoughts about what he had agreed to.

  Ryan took a steadying breath. He raised the needle and tapped it to ensure there were no bubbles. He looked to Jack, “You sure about this? This could do anything.”

  Jack swallowed and nodded, straightening his posture, “Do it.” He extended his left arm, offering his soft forearm.

  Ryan gently supported Jack’s arm and brought the needle against his skin. He hesitated slightly, then slid the needle into the crook of Jack’s arm.

  Jack stifled a hiss of pain and looked away as the serum was injected. It burned like a salted wound, but by the time he looked back, the syringe was out of his arm and cotton being pressed on the wound.

  Ryan disassembled the syringed and placed it in its case before returning to examine Jack’s arm. Removing the cotton, a pinprick of almost black blood remained. Jack’s blood was darker than it had been last time Ryan had seen him, but it still wasn’t a true black like his own.

  “And?” Jack asked him.

  “How does it feel?”

  “Burns.”

  Ryan frowned, “Geoff said that too.” He prodded the injection site, “Is it raw?”

  Jack shook his head, “Not really. But the burning is spreading and it feels like it’s lessening as it goes. Diluting.”

  Ryan took his notebook from his desk and began to write everything down, “Any heat, or stiffness?”

  After testing his range of motion, Jack shook his head, “No, feels pretty good actually.”

  “Nothing unusual?”

  Shaking his head again, Jack went to rub off a grey smudge near where the injection had been. The dirt was tough, so he licked his thumb and tried again. No luck.

  “What is that?” Ryan noticed the smudge.

  Jack shrugged, “Coal, dirt, oil–” 

  A magnifying glass was immediately in Ryan’s hand and he pulled Jack’s arm up to better light. He inspected the smudge, jotting down ‘ _discolouration at injection site’_.

  Ryan watched the smudge intently and Jack felt colour rise in his cheeks.

  “Ryan, I’m a carpenter, it could be charcoal, or pencil…”

  “No.” Ryan looked up at him, “It wasn’t here before. I’m sure of it.”

  Jack sighed and pulled his arm from Ryan’s hand, “Then maybe your syringe was dusty.”

  “It sits in a covered case – it won’t gather dust.” Ryan argued, “I want you to stay here for observation. At least until the evening.”

  Rolling his eyes, Jack stood, “I can’t spend the day here; Geoff’s out getting food, and I’m supposed to get more water from the well. We’re not all so lucky as to have our water pump still working.”

  “I told you that Trevor can fix it – and you’re staying here.” Ryan stood and blocked his path, “Don’t make me force you into bindings.”

  Jack snorted, Ryan may have been well built, but he was a doctor, and Jack lifted lumber for a living. Ryan wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  Ryan seemed to have the same thought and pulled aside his white lab coat to reveal his revolver in its shoulder holster, “Don’t test me Pattillo.” He warned.

  “You wouldn’t shoot me, _Doctor._ ” Jack said, “Do no harm.”

  Ryan wet his lips, “Yes well, it’s not like I’m worried about keeping my licence. Or the law.”

  A sharp pain shot through Jack’s arm, radiating from the injection site. He tried not to flinch so as to not fuel Ryan further, but Ryan noticed.

  “Jack, what was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something just happened!” Ryan was growing frustrated.

  “Just some p–” Jack was going to dismiss it but the pain spiked again, radiating outwards along his nerves. He exclaimed and dropped back down onto his stool, trying to hold his arm as straight and limp as possible.

  Ryan flew into full diagnosis mode. He shoved a thermometer into Jack’s mouth, and immediately had a stethoscope to his chest. After a quick check to ensure Jack’s heart and lungs were still strong, he was inspecting the injection site.

  The smudge had darkened. It was almost black now and was spreading through the surrounding capillaries creating a veiny pattern. Was the serum expediting the blood darkening corruption? The veins were spreading at a slow but visible rate, and Jack’s discomfort was steadily increasing.

  Now about the size of a quarter, the corruption was considerably painful.

  “Ryan, it really hurts!” Jack said.

  “Do you feel anything other than the pain?” Ryan was trying not to panic.

  Jack tried to touch the corruption on his arm and winced, “Feels hard, solid. Like something’s there.”

  Ryan refrained from prodding the growing corruption, and started to mentally list what options he had. He abruptly stood and raced over to a cabinet.

  “What are you doing?!” Jack was on the verge of tears. It was starting to itch beneath the pain, stiffening his whole elbow with what felt like swelling, but the area wasn’t enlarged or red, “Ryan! It’s itchy!”

  Ryan returned with some bottles and a new clean needle, “I have opium,” he announced and began to measure it out.

  Jack was reaching the end of his wits with the itchiness increasing and the area no less painful. He couldn’t touch the skin of his left arm. He simply confirmed with a quick nod, granting Ryan permission for the injection.

  Ryan chose an injection site just beyond the corruption which was now the radius of an orange.

  It took a few second for the injection to do its work, but Jack’s relief was palatable. His head grew light, and his body numb, the pain dulling into a background buzz. He smiled and let out a large breath, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t.” Ryan shook his head, “It’s still spreading, and I can’t stop it.”

  “It tickles.” Jack tried to scratch the area now that the pain was gone, but Ryan pulled his hand away. Jack frowned. It felt like he had flies crawling all over the skin of his arm.

  Ryan watched Jack attempt to shake out his arm.

  His shaking grew more enthusiastic until he ripped his right hand free of Ryan’s and began vigorously scratching.

  “Stop!” Ryan tried to pull him away, but Jack fought him, “You’ll hurt yourself!”

  “It’s like something is moving under my skin!” Jack began to sink his nails into his own flesh in desperation. Black blood welled up where he managed to break through.

  Ryan threw his whole weight into restraining Jack, “STOP!” It could have been the struggle, but Ryan thought he could feel crawling movement beneath Jack’s skin as well.

  Ryan could do nothing but shout out as the corruption – now almost at Jack’s wrist and shoulder – began to break through Jack’s skin of its own accord.

  Where Jack had already broken or weakened his skin worms began to emerge.

  No not worms, Ryan was sane enough to note; it was Jack’s very veins. The veins squirmed and curled like worms and soon were piercing through even the undamaged skin. Black blood spilled down Jack’s arm and stained Ryan’s clothes.

  Jack was screaming, as was Ryan, and Ryan’s mind came to only one possible solution.

  Ryan let go of Jack and sprinted from the room.

  Jack’s relief at no longer having Ryan on top of him was short lived. He saw his arm and shrieked, giving up on his scratching and recoiling in horror.

  His horror only increased when Ryan ran back into the room, panting. In his hands was a tourniquet and the other held a bone saw.

  “RYAN NO!” Jack realised what Ryan was going to do.

  Ryan refilled his opium syringe and advanced on Jack. Jack jumped to his feet and backed up in a hurry, “I’m left handed!” he protested.

  “It’s spreading, Jack! Look at your hand! You aren’t left handed anymore!”

  Ryan was right; Jack’s fingers were bent at awkward angles, and would violently snap into other equally unnatural positions. The skin was run clean through with his black squirming veins, creating the illusion of hair or fur. Jack was no longer feeling pain, but Ryan was empathetically cringing as a large artery pierced flesh and then wrenched itself up tearing through a swath of skin and muscle.

  Tears streamed from Jack’s remaining eye, and he choked on a cry, “Get these things offa me!” He made his decision.

  “Get on the ground, we don’t have time to get you to my operating room.” Ryan ordered, and injected Jack with enough opium to make the whole procedure a foggy blur.

  Jack’s eye glazed over an involuntary chuckled escaped him like a hiccup.

  Tourniquet tied and tightened, Ryan hurried to get the job done. Black blood slicked his saw, and as if realising what it was he was doing, Jack’s veins began to grab and pull at Ryan’s tools.

  He had never performed a surgery quite like this one. Once he began sawing bone, roughly half of the veins appeared to lose vitality. He cut away every piece of corruption, and was left with only Jack’s shoulder. A tragedy, but at least the rest was saved. Jack would live.

  He staunched every bleeding vein and artery, before folding the remaining muscle back onto bone. Hopefully it would heal well.

 Curiosity had him look back at the removed arm as he was stitching skin. The veins were more or less limp in a pool of their own blood. Ryan kicked the arm away as far as he could, before checking back on Jack.

  Jack was passed out and drooling, snoring even.

  Ryan resisted the urge to wipe away sweat. His hands were filthy with Jack’s blood.

  He contemplated how to move Jack to a bed. Dragging him would only open the wound. He’d have to lift him by his good arm and hope no stitches broke.

 

  After considerable cursing, Jack was fast asleep in a clean clinic bed, with fresh bandages and an IV. Ryan was ready to pass out as adrenaline left him. He felt physically and mentally exhausted.

  He huffed and caught his breath. If he ever deserved to use the last of his sugar for some sweet tea, it was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like my fics? Wanna talk to others that like my fic? Join my Discord! https://discord.gg/xK8Bwqx


	6. Gone Fishin'

    The Wailing Cave was a considerable walk away up the coast from the docks. Walking over sand and uneven rocks made it feel even further, and the lads were breaking a sweat by the time Trevor pointed at some cliffs jutting out over the water.

  “The cave’s at the base of those.” He explained, “Looks like the tide’s half out already too, so we timed it perfectly.”

  “We didn’t time shit.” Michael huffed and scratched at a bandage on his arm, “We’re just lucky.”

  Trevor laughed at that.

  Jeremy spotted movement in the shadows of the cliffs down by the water. It appeared to be a hooded figure in a large leather raincoat. The figure was crouched by exposed rock at the edge of the water and their back was to the group.

  “Whoa,” Jeremy warned and threw out an arm to stop the group from coming closer. He pointed at the figure and spoke quietly, “There’s someone here.”

  Everyone stopped in their place out of caution.

  Trevor nodded to them and stepped forward, “Hey! Hello?” he called out.

  Gavin looked to his fellow lads, “What do we do if he ain’t friendly?”

  Both Michael and Jeremy shrugged.

  “We mob him; four to one.” Jeremy suggested.

  Michael scoffed, “Yeah, sure. I think tentacles count as an advantage regardless of how many of us there are.”

 

  The figure stood and turned around, startled that they weren’t alone any longer. In their left hand they held a short wide-bladed knife and in their right was a bucket. They had come to the cave with the same intention as the lads.

  “I’ve got a knife!” The figure brandished the blade. Their voice was shrill with fear.

  Trevor recognised the voice and put up his hands to show he was unarmed, “Geoff? It’s Trevor!”

  “Treyco?” The figure sounded less afraid but still wary. He lowered his hood for a clearer view. His hair was black, short but messy, and a scruffy beard framed his mouth. His skin was deathly pale with a greyish tinge and dark grey circles under his eyes completed the ghoulish look.

  “Yeah!” Trevor nodded enthusiastically

  “If this is a trick, I swear to god–!” Geoff waved his knife towards them threateningly.

  Jeremy put his hands on either side of his mouth and shouted, “We just want some mussels!”

  Geoff was still squinting suspiciously but lowered the blade, “And who the fuck are you?!”

  “I’m Jeremy! This is Michael, and this is Gavin.” Jeremy introduced them.

  Michael nodded while Gavin waved ‘Hi’.

  “Our car broke down.” Michael explained.

  “Oh.” Geoff wasn’t sure what to make of it, “You’re in the worst possible place.”

  “We figured.” Gavin crossed his arms, “Can we come over to get mussels and stop yelling at each other?”

  Geoff still appeared hesitant but nodded, “Yeah, ok.”

 

  Trevor still lead the way as they approached the jagged rocks. If the rocks themselves weren’t sharp enough, the mussels were like a liberal coating of razor blades. It was no wonder that the townsfolk were so cautious of an incoming tide.

  Geoff was wearing thick-soled boots and heavy work gloves under his leather coat. He replaced his hood and looked the group over, “Y’all are gonna want a bucket or knife, and I ain’t givin’ you mine.”

  The lads realised they had come empty handed.

  “Uh.” Michael looked at Jeremy.

  “Shit.” Jeremy swore.

  Gavin threw up his hands, “Bugger me!”

  A low mournful moan drifted on the wind from the stony cliffs.

  The lads were immediately on edge, but Geoff and Trevor laughed at their reaction.

  “It’s called the Wailin’ Cave for a reason.” Trevor smiled.

  Geoff laughed harder, “What did you think it was?”

  “Look,” Gavin looked towards the cliffs but had no further words. A crevasse in the face of the rock lead deep within, and when a wind picked up, it produced the eerie sound.

  “If any town is gonna have some kind of monster, it’s this one.” Jeremy said, “Hell I _know_ it has monsters. Ryan has some locked in his basement!”

  “ _Ryan,_ ” Geoff almost growled the name, “ _Doctor_ Haywood has done nothing but make the situation worse!”

  “He’s trying to help!” Jeremy argued.

  Geoff crossed his arms, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions. He turned me into a monster! Said he was trying help me, and only made me a million times worse!”

  “If you don’t mind me asking– You look fairly… normal?” Gavin didn’t know how to ask the question so he looked to Trevor, “Do you have fins too?”

  “Fins?” Geoff turned on him, “Fins?!”

  Gavin shrunk back.

  “If I had fucking _fins_ , it’d be a blessing!” Geoff shouted at him.

  “Do you mind us asking–?” Gavin’s curiosity gave him courage.

  “Yeah! I do! If you’re so fucking curious ask Haywood what he’s done to me!”

  Trevor put out his hands calmingly “Geoff, it’s ok. They’re stuck in this town as much as you or I.”

  Geoff let out a long breath, anger draining, “Sorry. It’s not easy. Nothing’s easy anymore.” He scratched his beard and changed the topic, “Y’all have a place to spend tonight? No reason I can’t share this seafood; I’m a pretty good cook too. It’s just me and Jack, we could use the company.”

  “We’ve been staying at the clinic.” Michael informed him, “But I don’t know how I feel about going back there…” He looked to his friends.

  “How many monsters do you have in your basement?” Jeremy asked Geoff.

  Geoff laughed, “It’s just me. I’m the only monster in our place.”

  “Aw, don’t be like that Geoff.” Trevor gently scolded him.

  “Sounds a hell of a lot better than Ryan’s place.” Michael admitted, “I’m up for it.”

  “Yeah. No monsters sounds like a great place to be.” Gavin agreed.

  Jeremy hesitated, “We promised Ryan some food, we can’t just ditch. We should at least let him know we plan to move out.”

  “You’re right.” Michael nodded. As much as he never wanted to step into that clinic again, his conscience had him wanting to show Ryan some courtesy.

  “Just give him a handful of mussels and leave him be.” Geoff waved away their concern.

  “Let’s help you gather some more then.” Jeremy suggested, “That way I won’t feel so bad for eating your food.” He smiled.

  Geoff held out his knife, “Go ahead. Just try not to hurt yourself.”

  Jeremy gladly accepted the knife and moved out onto the rocks. Trevor followed to aid him, while Gavin remained with Michael who didn’t want to get his bandages wet.

 “How long has your town been fucked up like this?” Michael asked Geoff as he sat down on a dry rock.

 Geoff shrugged, “Maybe a month for people turnin’ into monsters, more if there is some sorta infection first. Hard to say.”

  “It’s bloody terrifyin’.” Gavin muttered.

  “It really is.” Geoff agreed.

  They sat in pensive silence, watching Jeremy struggle with prying a mussel loose while Trevor looked on, offering advice that was quickly dismissed.

  “Do you think it’s contagious?” Michael quietly asked.

  “It has to be; how else would we all have it?” Geoff replied.

  “Well it could be something else… Like a bad fish haul or somethin’.” Michael reasoned.

  Geoff looked to him with a brow raised, “You afraid you’ve got it?”

  “No.” Michael shrugged, “I mean, the longer we’re here the more likely we’ll get it.”

  Geoff nodded in agreement, “True. I guess you really should skip town as soon as you can.”

  “Our automobile is broken.” Gavin told him.

  Michael scoffed, “More like, you broke it.”

  Gavin ignored him, “And the carpenter here isn’t friendly.”

  “Jack will help you when he can, have you tried asking Trevor?” Geoff suggested.

  “Yeah, he said it was a carpenter job.” Michael told him.

  “Well, I can ask Jack about it, too.” Geoff offered, “But he’s been having some eye trouble recently, so I don’t know if it will affect his ability to work.”

  “We saw him come in with a blindfold over one eye, so it probably ain’t good news for us.” Michael explained.

  Geoff looked away and frowned, “Yeah… I told him not to go to the clinic but he insisted that Ryan had to see him. I just hope everything is okay. He was in a lot of pain last night.”

 

  Jeremy and Trevor finished up with the mussels, filling to bucket to the rim, and returned to the others.

  “We’ve got mussels!” Jeremy happily announced, brandishing the bucket.

  Michael stood, wiping sand from the seat of his pants, “Let’s get back to town then.”

 

  The journey back felt short with the five of them idly chatting about the meal they were going to enjoy. It wasn’t until they approached the clinic that the mood drastically shifted.

  Geoff furrowed his brows and frowned, clearly unhappy to be in the mere vicinity of the building.

  Gavin saw his reaction, “We can just quickly let him know; drop off the clams and be on our way.”

  “Yeah, whatever, let’s just get it over with.” Geoff gestured for them to walk up to the door.

  Jeremy nodded in understanding and went to the door, mussels in hand. He rang the doorbell. The deep gong resonated throughout the building.

  It didn’t take long for the mail slot to open and two blue eyes to peer through.

  “Hey Ryan, it’s us.” Jeremy held up the mussels, “We brought food.”

  Ryan’s eyes flicked over to focus somewhere behind Jeremy, “You brought Geoff?”

  “Yeah, he–” Jeremy stopped as the mail slot slammed shut and the sound of the door being unlocked was heard.

  The door violently swung open. A Ryan more tired and stressed than they thought possible was stood in the entry and called out to Geoff, “Jack’s unwell.”

  Geoff approached the door, “His eye?” his gaze went over Ryan’s shoulder and into the clinic. They fell on an unconscious Jack laying in a treatment bed, “Jack!”

  Ryan was shoved aside as Geoff rushed into the clinic to be at the side of his friend, and was forced to chase him over to the bed.

  “What did you do to him?!” Geoff shouted. He came closer and saw that Jack’s left shoulder was not only in bandages but also no longer sported an arm, “WHAT DID YOU DO?!!” he bellowed.

  Jack stirred at the noise but Geoff’s full attention was now on Ryan.

  Ryan held up his hands pleadingly, “Geoffrey, please, calm down.”

  “CALM DOWN?!” Geoff grabbed Ryan by the collar, “You took his fucking arm!”

  The lads and Trevor had funnelled into the clinic by this point and were hesitant to speak.

  “Geoff–” Ryan tried.

  “He came to you with eye trouble and you _chop off a limb_?!” Geoff shook Ryan so hard his glasses went askew, “What the fuck kind of doctoring is that?!” Geoff’s eye caught the metal glint of the pistol as Ryan shoved it into his gut.

  “Calm down, Geoff!” Ryan ordered with both hands on his revolver.

  Geoff hesitated, blinked, appeared to realise what was going on, and let go of Ryan. He took a step back, “Whoa, Doctor, I–”

  With an all too steady hand, Ryan fixed his glasses, “I didn’t just _chop off_ his arm! The corruption got to him. I saved his life by removing it before it spread to his body.”

  “His arm was fine when he left!” Geoff gestured angrily.

  “Can we put the gun down?” Gavin interrupted, “Please?”

  Ryan’s eyes went to Gavin, then the gun, and then to Geoff, “Fine.” He slowly lowered it, keeping a close eye on Geoff. The gun was down, but it was clear Ryan wasn’t about to put it away.

  A tired voice spoke from the clinic bed, “Geoff, he saved my life. It was my own fault too.” Jack’s eyes were half lidded but it was clear he paying attention to the commotion.

  “Jack!” Geoff almost dropped down to his bedside, “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Jack laughed, “I am all right.” He lifted up his right arm.

  “Not funny.” Geoff scolded.

  “Jack needs time to recover. I suggest you leave and let him rest.” Ryan told Geoff with a mask of professionalism.

  “Like fuck I leave him alone with you!” Geoff snarled at Ryan, “Look what you did!”

  “I said it was my fault, Geoff.” Jack corrected him.

  “Like hell it was; what did he do to you?!” Geoff turned back to Jack.

  “I told him to test his latest serum on me.”

   Geoff’s eyes went dark and he slowly looked over to Ryan, “You did what?” it was directed to the doctor, “After what happened to me?!” he stood, hands clenched at his sides, “You tested that vile shit on Jack!”

  “Geoff, I made him do it. He didn’t want to.” Jack tried to push himself up in the bed but struggled with only one arm.

  “It was a modified serum; there was no way to know what it would have done.” Ryan stated calmly.

  Ryan’s unflinching calm was grating on Geoff’s nerves. How dare the man be so detached from his handiwork? This was Jack!

  Geoff sputtered and pointed a finger at Ryan’s chest, “This is your fault. Jack’s not staying here.”

  “He needs to stay here so I can monitor him and ensure his recovery.” Ryan argued.

  “No!” Geoff shook his head and turned to Jack, “Tell him, Jack.”

  Jack looked between them, “Ryan’s the doctor, Geoff.”

  “If something goes wrong then you can always come back.” Michael offered. This whole situation was making him nervous, and he just wanted it to be over.

  Ryan didn’t appear pleased with that but he finally holstered his gun, “Fine. Take him. But the first sign of fever, or anything, and you bring him back here immediately.”

  With that it was as if the whole room breathed a sigh of relief and the tension deflated.

  Geoff nodded, “He’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be fine, Ryan.” Jack confirmed.

  Ryan shook his head but didn’t argue, “Let me give you a small bottle of Laudanum.” He moved away from the bed and passed Geoff.

  Geoff’s arm flew out and grabbed Ryan by the wrist.

  Ryan stiffened.

  “There better be only laudanum in that bottle, or you’ll regret it.” Geoff warned.

  Ryan tore his arm free of Geoff’s grip, and gave him a dirty and offended look before turning away and continuing over to the large medicine cabinet at the back of the room.

  Jack looked to Geoff with disappointment.

  Geoff noticed it, “What?!”

  Jack merely shook his head.

 

  Ryan returned with a small brown bottle, a cork sealing it closed, “No more than a couple drops every four hours, understood?” he held it up to Jack, pointedly ignoring Geoff.

  Jack carefully took the bottle with a nod.

  “Good,” Ryan nodded back. He bent over to aid Jack in leaving the bed but Geoff was faster.

  Geoff smoothly slid his arm under Jack’s good shoulder and helped him up and to his feet.

  Jack grunted in discomfort at the movement but was otherwise fine. He could stand on his own, but that didn’t stop Geoff from giving him a shoulder to lean on.

  “Thank you, Ryan.” Jack was genuine, “You saved my life.”

  Geoff bit his tongue. He wanted to argue that it was Ryan’s fault that Jack’s life had ever been in danger.

  “You’re welcome, but I can’t help but feel responsible.”

  “Good.” Geoff retorted.

  Jack frowned, “Geoff…”

  Ryan shook his head, “He has every right to be angry.” He admitted, “It was my serum after all.”

  Jack sighed; he wasn’t about to convince the man out of his guilt. He felt bad though, Ryan must have felt guilty not just about Jack, but every patient he couldn’t save. This was only the most recent incident in an ever growing list.

  “I don’t know what more I can do.” Ryan confessed, surprising the room, “I need test subjects to formulate the serum, but they either die or it accelerates the corruption. I’m as bad as the disease. The harder I try, the more I hurt those around me.”

  Geoff’s expression softened. So Ryan did feel bad after all.

  “You can’t quit, Ryan.” Jack urged.

  “Jack’s right.” Geoff agreed, “You quit and then there’s no hope left for any of us.”

  Ryan was thrown aback by Geoff’s support, “Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it, but like hell I test on anyone ever again. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what it did to Jack’s arm.”

  “I saw what it did to me – that’s proof enough!” Geoff told him.

  Ryan didn’t have much to say to that.

  Geoff nodded towards the door, “Come on guys. Let’s give Ryan some food and then leave him to his work.”


	7. Worms

  With his guests gone, Ryan finally let his nerves show.  His vision blurred as tears stung his eyes and his hands began to quake. His bones felt cold and his head too heavy.

  What had he done to Jack?

  He quickly returned to his lab and sat down at his lab table. Looking towards the remaining serum, he felt anger grow.

  He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so hard.

  And now Jack was without his left arm.

  How could he be so stupid?!

  He turned and looked to the lab floor where he had performed the surgery. The offending arm and Jack’s blood were still there, untouched since the procedure.

  He was going to have to clean that up at some point. May as well do it now.

  With a deep breath he lifted himself to his feet and went over to the arm. Tilting his head he had a thought; maybe this arm held a secret as to why the serum had failed. Jack’s blood had been a dark red before the injection and then had quickly turned black.

  That was the first time Ryan had seen such behaviour first hand. Usually it took weeks for the blood to turn fully black. And once black, physical transformation soon followed.

  He pulled on gloves and grabbed two eye droppers. Managing to find some blood that had yet to dry he sucked it up into one dropper and placed it on his lab desk. He then grabbed the arm and carefully carried it out of his lab, through the clinic, and into the back room of the building where the incinerator stood tall.

  The incinerator had yet to be turned on since its repair, so it stood cold in the corner of the room. The room itself was fairly bare, with ceramic tiled floor and a large wash basin with faucet. There was a door to the backyard in one wall, and a small barred window next to it. Next to the incinerator was a large pile of coal and a shovel.

  After putting the arm into the washbasin, he removed his gloves, flipping them them inside out before stowing them in a pocket. He grabbed the shovel and filled the incinerator enough to start it.

  It would take hours for the incinerator to reach its full heat. Until then, he returned to the lab.

  Sitting down he readied his microscope, and smeared a single drop of blood onto a clean petri dish. He then grabbed four more petri dishes and began to set up his experiment.

  Untainted blood was easy to get. He had safely stored the samples of the Lads’ blood. The trick now was to get his own.

  With his incinerator only just turned on, he hadn’t had a chance to autoclave his syringes for a while and didn’t have any he could spare for some silly spur of the moment experiment. Instead he pulled out a clean scalpel and pulled up his sleeve.

He took the scalpel and pressed gently on the flesh of his inner arm. Black blood immediately welled up around the blade. Dropping the scalpel he quickly grabbed the clean dropper and used it to gather the blood up. Happy with the amount, he put the dropper aside and pressed some cotton on the wound. A small strip of medical tape helped keep the cotton securely in place as he once more rolled down his sleeve.

  Carefully he used the dropper to put a single drop of his own blood onto a clean petri dish. Using the tip of the dropper to smear the drop thinner, he noticed it didn’t do so uniformly. There were small… chunks? Were they clots?

  Under the examination light the ‘clots’ began to move. They squirmed.

  Nope.

  Not blood clots

  Ryan dropped his dropper and immediately grabbed a magnifying glass. He had to hold it steady with both hands.

  The clots were worms.

  Dozens of them.

  Each was small, about as long as his pinky nail was wide, and only a millimeter or two across.

  Ryan picked up the dropper of his blood again and fully emptied it into the petri dish.

  More worms.

  His blood was filled with them.

  He let out a shuddering breath. His own corruption was far further along than he had initially thought. How had he failed to notice this? Was his mind already going on him? Had these worms invaded his brain? Was he even still himself?

  He stood and left the room, heading to the main hall where he had a large mirror.

  The face that looked back at him was barely his. Gaunt grey skin, with deep dark circles under eyes filled with fear.

  Or was it madness?

  He looked his face over for any kind of unnatural discolouration or growths.

  So far so good.

  He opened his mouth to examine it as well.

  Dark grey patches discoloured portions of the soft flesh. It appeared almost as if a mold was taking up residence.

  That was far less good.

  He closed his mouth and swallowed. Everything felt as normal as ever. Yes, he felt ill, but most of that could be chocked up to stress and lack of sleep. He didn’t actually _feel_ like his blood was infested with worm-like parasites.

  With a deep breath he returned to his lab. His experiment had been derailed, that was sure, but now he was determined to learn more about the worms. He grabbed a vial of Gavin’s blood, some remaining serum, and tweezers.

  The experiment would be simple.

  He laid out four petri dishes. One with Jack’s blood, one with nothing, one with Gavin’s blood, and finally the one with the worms.

  Using the tweezers, he put a single worm in each of the three dishes that were wormless. Then in the worm filled dish he put a drop of the serum. He closed up each dish and moved them aside. How long would it take to see which worms lived and which died? He would leave it for the night. Sleep was something he sorely needed.

  So much had happened in the last few hours. He was having trouble taking it all in. He was too stressed, too tired.

  And too frightened.

  He doubted he’d be able to sleep, but hoped exhaustion would take him.

  His thoughts danced tantalisingly over the contents of his pharmacy. He had to shake them away. A drug induced slumber may help him rest, but he’d seen what a dependency could do to a man.

  Not like he really had the time left to develop an addiction. The disease was seeing to that.

  How much time could he possibly have left? Days? Hours? He drove that thought from his head as well.

  Now was not the time for thoughts. Now was the time for sleep.

 

  It took him hours of tossing and turning and chasing racing thoughts, but finally he fell asleep.

 

  _The black waters surrounded him, crushing him._

_His breath was pushed from his lungs. A pitiful stream of bubbles replaced by a freezing torrent of water._

_His lungs screamed for air, his veins craving oxygen._

_Vision began to fade, blackening from the edges in._

_This was it._

_This was how he died._

 

  When he woke, it was noon. His head was pounding, and his ears ringing from the pain. He was cotton-mouthed and felt as if his tongue was shaped wrong for his mouth. When he checked his temperature out of curiosity, he found he was running a fever.

  Great.

  He stumbled his way downstairs for some aspirin and remembered his experiment from the day before. His pace hurried, he forgot about the aspirin, and went straight to the lab.

  The first dish, filled with his blood and serum had all of its worms dead.

  The second dish where a worm was alone without blood was also dead.

  The third dish, with Jack’s blood had a living worm that had grown to the size of a mealworm.

  And the final dish with Gavin’s blood was open and empty.

  Panic rose in Ryan’s chest.

  His head throbbed, and he pressed his palm to his forehead. He turned and screwed his eyes shut until the pain dulled enough for him to stand straight.

  Opening his eyes he noticed movement on the floor.

  Jack’s blood stain was almost entirely gone, and working away at cleaning the remainder was a hamster-sized sea cucumber.

  Well, it _looked_ like a sea cucumber. It had a fat legless body and a mouth surrounded by short stubby tentacles. Its skin was a green so dark it was almost black, and was shiny like a frog’s.

  Ryan went to pick the creature up and… and what? Put it away somewhere…? He stood still for a moment unsure of what to do. He also had the mealworm sized worm to deal with too.

  It seemed to be enjoying Jack’s blood, and had cleaned its dish of Gavin’s. Maybe they would eat Jack’s arm?

  Would that be wrong to allow?

  Fuck it. Jack wasn’t going to use the arm anymore anyway.

  Ryan took the worm still alive in its petri dish and put it in a pocket. He then carefully approached the sea cucumber on the floor.

  Could it bite? Maybe it spat poison?

  He hesitated before deciding to get another pair of gloves, face mask, and a pair of safety glasses over top of his own.

  Now armoured he approached once more. The creature hadn’t appeared to notice him at all and was happily scouring the floor for the dried blood.

  He slowly reached out and touched the creature. At being touched the creature squirmed and let out a high pitched screech.

  It felt like an ice pick was being driven into Ryan’s brain and he shouted out in pain, grabbing his head.

  No longer being touched, the creature calmed.

  Ryan took a moment as his pain died down, “I’m not gonna hurt you, you little bastard.” He whispered angrily.

  The creature raised its tentacled end towards Ryan.

  “Can you hear?” Ryan spoke. The creature didn’t appear to have any external ears.

  The creature’s head remained pointed towards him.

  He decided to try to touch the creature again.

  This time when he touched it, it did not screech. Instead its head moved slowly towards Ryan’s fingers. The tentacles gingerly touched the glove and then pulled away.

  Ryan figured it was safe to try and lift it for closer inspection.

  Its body was firm with a little give, and when Ryan squeezed it a little too hard, the creature gave an annoyed squeak.

  On what must be its head was a ring of tentacles. Within the ring was a gaping mouth like a lamprey’s packed with row upon row of small triangular teeth. The mouth was large enough for a finger to fit inside, but Ryan did not want to find out what would happen if he did insert his finger.

  Held by Ryan, the creature squirmed a bit, but didn’t appear to be trying to escape.

  It was kinda cute.

 

  He took the creature and the worm over to the large basin containing Jack’s arm. Releasing them both, he wondered if the larger would try and eat the smaller, but it appeared as if both were far more interested in the arm.

  Ryan observed them. The larger attached itself to the arm and was turning its head side to side in an attempt to saw off flesh. The smaller found a hole in the skin and buried itself.

  His eyelids began to droop, and he once more became acutely aware of his fever. He pulled up a chair and leaned against the cool metal of the basin.

  Within seconds he was unconscious.

 

  _The darkness was filled with strange voices. Whispering and unintelligible. Unknown symbols glowed and as soon as Ryan tried to read them, his vision swam and the symbols faded. He felt cold and wet. Was he in a cave?_

_So alone._

_A familiar sound echoed towards him. It was a high pitched screech. It echoed throughout the chamber and pierced his mind._

_It grew louder and louder._

_Why wouldn’t it stop?!_

  Ryan realised the screeching wasn’t from his dream as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw that in his sleep he had dangled one of his arms onto the washbasin. On his hand sat a cat sized sea cucumber with four stubby leg nubs. Its head was held up to the air and it was wailing.

  Eyes widening, Ryan immediately snatched back his hand.

  The creature was rolled off his hand and onto its back. The screeching wail stopped and was replaced by irritated squeaks for help as its near useless legs waved in the air.

  Ryan helpfully rolled it back over.

  The creature hopped up onto its little stub legs and appeared to look at Ryan expectantly. Of course it had no eyes, so Ryan was projecting, but he couldn’t help but feel as if the creature wanted something from him.

  Jack’s arm was reduced to a pile of loose and broken bones. The second smaller creature was there fiddling with them. It was the size of a guinea pig and also had a ring of tentacles on its head. However, the tentacles rested back away from the mouth as opposed to over it much like a mane, and revealed a pink skinned boney head. The head had two rows of three black beady eyes each and looked almost canine. Dog-like if the dog’s head had been skinned.

  It used its teeth and jaws to grab a finger bone and crack it in half. Its tentacles then came forward, covering the face in order the extract the marrow and bring it into its mouth.

  Ryan flinched as the creature cracked yet another bone.

  The smaller creature had begun to grow legs as well, but they were no more than useless protrusions at this point.

  Ryan looked at them both.

  These things had come from his blood. If every worm could grow into a creature…

  Inside him there were thousands more.

  It seemed all he had to do was feed them.

  At least that meant they weren’t eating _him._

  “You’re Edgar,” Ryan pointed to the larger, “And you’re Allen.” He pointed to the smaller.

  Both raised their heads at the sound of his voice.

  “After the poet.” Ryan explained as if they were listening.

  The creatures returned to fiddling with the arm bones. Edgar appeared frustrated with its inability to break them apart and get at the tasty bits inside like Allen.

 

  Ryan put a hand to his forehead. Still warm but no longer hot. The headache was nothing but dull pain and he felt better than he had earlier.

  He should eat. He remembered the mussels in his refrigerator, and turned to leave for the kitchen.

  Edgar somehow sensed him leaving. It scrabbled at the side of the wash basin frantically trying to follow.

  Allen squealed.

  Ryan looked back over his shoulder at the creatures. He sighed and then spoke, “I’m coming back.” He took another step towards the door.

  Allen squealed louder and Edgar tried to hop up out of the basin, only to flop over and end up squeaking for help.

  Ryan shook his head, “Fine.” While the creatures were frightening to look at they seemed harmless towards him. Maybe they were still hungry and didn’t want him leaving until they got more food.

  Allen was easy enough to pick up in a hand and place in his lab coat’s breast pocket. Edgar was more challenging and had to be carried like a child. Both were surprisingly heavy and solid for their size.

  This time both creatures remained content as Ryan left the room.

 

  Ryan boiled up some water and savoured his meal of fresh mussels. He gave a mussel each to Edgar and Allen and they greedily devoured it. The two creatures were happily sat on the table watching Ryan eat.

  Both stared at Ryan, eager for more.

  Under their combined stares, Ryan caved. He left the remainder of his meal, went to the pantry, and pulled out two tins of fish.

  When he returned, his plate was filled with empty shells. Edgar and Allen chirruped happily.

  “You little bastards.” He cursed without real anger. He opened a tin and placed it before Edgar. Both Edgar and Allen excitedly crowded the tin, immediately digging in. They cleaned it out in seconds and were back to waiting for more.

  Ryan shook his head and couldn’t help but smile as he opened the second tin.

  He sat down and watched them finish off the second tin. They finally appeared satiated, and left the tin to wander over towards Ryan.

  Edgar curled his little legs beneath its body and made a happy gurgle. Allen nuzzled up to Edgar, closed its eyes, and then draped its little tentacle mane over its face.

  Ryan decided that it was best if he went to bed too. He picked up the creatures, each only stirred slightly and remained asleep. He didn’t like the idea of giving them free roam of the house, so he returned them to the wash basin, before heading up to his own room.

 


	8. Monsters

  They were all currently sat in the small lobby of the inn. There was a large warm fireplace and several plush couches around a small well-built wooden coffee table. The lobby was dimly lit by the fire and a few oil lamps, but it felt more cozy than gloomy. With the windows boarded, little natural light came in.

  Their breakfast was scavenged greens and the last of the previous day’s mussels fried and lightly salted. Geoff had not been gloating when he had said he was a good cook. He managed to make limited ingredients delicious. They had had mussels for four different meals now and Geoff had made each meal unique and tasty.

  Curiosity as to Geoff’s ailment plagued Gavin, but he kept polite and didn’t press the issue. He did however watch Geoff carefully and had yet to figure out what had happened to the man to make him hate Ryan so much.

  Jack was faring well. He refused to remove his eye patch or tie off his empty sleeve. He was having difficulty adjusting but his spirits were high. He’d wave off any help anyone offered him and insist he could do it on his own. His right hand often went over to his left shoulder and then pulled back as if in surprise that there was nothing there.

  Everyone pretended to ignore the motion.

 

  Michael’s stitches were itchy as hell. He decided to remove his bandages which were dirty with dark dry blood. The wounds on his arms were sealed and clearly healing, he could only assume the one on his face was as well.

  Geoff looked at the wounds with curiosity, he’d never bothered to ask what they were from, “Those from the car accident?”

  “Huh?” Jeremy looked up.

  “The stitches.” Geoff clarified.

  Jack perked up at the thought of conversation so that he didn’t have to sit alone with his thoughts, “Must have been quite serious.”

  “Oh it wasn’t the accident.” Michael corrected them, “I met a patient in Ryan’s clinic.”

  “Oh shit,” Geoff’s eyes went wide.

  “Oh yeah, scared the shit outta all of us.” Jeremy nodded.

  “There was so much blood…” Gavin shuddered, “The guy was tied down and a bunch of tentacles came whipping out of his mouth.”

  “Oh no…” Jack was horrified.

  “Uh huh.” Michael nodded, “He cut me up.”

  Geoff frowned, “I didn’t realise that you guys already had first hand contact with what happens in this town.”

  “Yeah, you guys have issues.” Jeremy tried to lighten the mood.

  Jack decided to change the topic, “Speaking of issues; if you guys want lunch or dinner today, you’re going to have to get some more food.”

  “We can raid the grocer again.” Geoff suggested, “Food won’t be fresh, but it won’t be mussels for the fifth time.”

  Jack didn’t look too pleased, “Last time we went to the market you almost died.”

  “Wait, what?” Jeremy didn’t like what was being said.

  Geoff laughed, “It wasn’t that bad. Don’t exaggerate.”

  “Geoff,” Jack gave him a tired look with his one eye.

  “What happened?” Gavin urged them to share.

  “Well, some sick people were very adamant about us not getting the food, but nothing serious went down.” Geoff was nonchalant.

  “We were attacked, by people driven mad by the disease.” Jack stated frankly.

  “Yeah but this time we’ll have more people! We can come armed… no offense.” Geoff looked to Jack.

  Jack rolled his eye, “It’s not fair of us to take them there.”

  “Not fair? They gotta eat too! What’s not fair is them not helping get the food.” Geoff argued.

  “They’re guests!” Jack retorted.

  “Can I say something here?”” Jeremy interjected.

  “What?” Geoff asked.

  “I’m totally willing to help.” Jeremy said, “We’re all in this together now.”

  Gavin and Michael nodded.

  “Yeah, we can’t leave and you can’t leave. We need to help each other.” Gavin added.

  “I think I’m traumatised after all this, but we still need to work together, especially now that our automobile won’t be getting fixed.” Michael told them.

  “I’m really sorry,” Jack apologised.

  The lads immediately sprung into a chorus of “No don’t be!” and “It’s not your fault!”

  The room fell awkwardly silent.

  Geoff cleared his throat, “So I figure Jack and Michael stay here to watch the place, and in case we take too long and don’t come back, they can always come for us.”

  Jack frown but said nothing.

  “Gavin, Jeremy, and I can head over to my tavern and grab my shotgun, then we make our way to the market. Sound good?” Geoff finished.

  “Sure, whatever.” Michael crossed his arms. He didn’t like being left behind, but he liked the idea of encountering another tentacle man even less.

  “I’m good with that plan.” Jeremy stated.

  Gavin was hesitant, but nodded anyway. He’d never been a fan of guns, but knew it was necessary.

  Jack sighed, “Fine. Let me get you some sacks to help you carry whatever you find.” He left and made off somewhere upstairs.

  Geoff watched him leave and once he was sure Jack was out of earshot he turned to Michael, “Keep an eye on him for me. Keep him safe.”

  Michael hadn’t been expecting that. He had assumed he was being left behind due to his own injuries, “I will.” He nodded.

 

~*~

 

  The overcast weather from the day before was still around, and today it had brought in a fog.

  Geoff fumbled with the large padlock barring his tavern closed. Gavin and Jeremy stood behind him keeping an eye up and down the street for any movement. Both of them held a lantern to aid in seeing through the fog, but they didn’t seem to help much.

  Faded orange paint on a large wooden sign declared the tavern as “Grif’s”.

  It took a couple seconds of swearing but Geoff got the door open. The interior of the tavern was dark, but Geoff knew his way around.

  Jeremy and Gavin followed him in, closing the door behind.

  The tavern was typical fare, with a large bar top along one wall and about a dozen or so tables with chairs.

  Geoff immediately went around the back of the bar and began to feel around beneath. He grinned when his fingers found cool metal.

  “Got it.” He announced and brought up a double barrel shotgun. He cracked open the chamber and saw that it was loaded, “Perfect.”

  “Nice.” Jeremy complimented.

  “Ugh, let’s just get going.” Gavin complained.

  Something wooden at the back of the tavern fell over and clattered onto the floor.

  The three of them froze.

  A low moan sounded followed by a gurgle.

  Geoff quickly came out from behind the bar and motioned for the other two to get behind him.

  He raised the shotgun and pointed into the shadows, “Who’s there?”

  A large human-sized form crawled forward across the floor. Its size was the only human thing about it. Sickly-grey-skinned and covered in slime, its limbs crept across the floor on starfish tubule feet. Its head and neck had become one. Instead of a face it had a mouth that split the head and neck vertically all the way down to the creature’s abdomen. Curved conical teeth as long as fingers filled the mouth.

  Gavin squeaked and moved further behind Geoff while Jeremy just held his lantern up in front of him and gaped.

  Geoff aimed at the monster, “If you can understand me, back off or I’ll shoot.”

  The monster didn’t slow its approach.

  “Last warning!” Geoff’s finger went to the trigger.

  The monster opened its mouth with a squeal and lunged forward.

  Geoff fired. The monster’s head was reduced to a black paste and its whole body fell limp.

  Lowering the gun, Geoff let out a breath, “I wanna know how that got in here.”

  “Was that a person?!” Gavin came out from behind Geoff to get a better look and gagged.

  “Was.” Geoff answered, “Once they no longer understand speech you can’t really do much.”

  “Shit. Ryan mentioned some shit, but I never thought it was quite this bad.” Jeremy admitted, “I was told that he had a bunch of people in the basement but didn’t realise they were like _this._ ”

  Geoff returned back behind the bar and pulled out a box of shotgun shells, “Yeah well, expect more.” He reloaded the shotgun and then went to the front door. He opened it and looked back at the two of them, “You guys don’t have to come with me. You can go back to the inn if it’s too much.”

  Gavin really liked that idea but Jeremy spoke before he could.

  “No, you can’t do this alone, we’re your backup.” Jeremy said.

  “Alright. If you say so.” Geoff smiled and left the tavern.

 

  The main market was only a street over from the tavern. Now knowing just what the fog could hide, they travelled slowly and cautiously. The reality of the disease was starting to sink in. Ryan had been right in calling it a corruption.

   They stayed quiet as to not attract unwanted attention.

  The fog revealed a sign reading “Rooster’s Teeth Grocery and Delicatessen”. All the storefront windows had been smashed and the door was open.

  Geoff pointed to it and gave a quick nod.

  They hurried over to the door and peered inside to see if anything alive had found its way in.

  There were no signs of life, so they entered and pulled out their sacks.

  “What should I grab?” Jeremy looked at the already scavenged shelves. They weren’t bare, but selection was going to be limited.

  “Go for anything canned or things like pastas.” Geoff told them, “Everything else will be rotten.”

  “Right.” Jeremy nodded and began to fill his sack with some cans of beans.

  Gavin ventured further in and found all the remaining spices. He was willing to bet Geoff would appreciate them, so he took a case of each.

  Geoff stayed near the front of the store with an eye out for anything suspicious. He busied himself with the cereals and flour.

  “I found pickles!” Jeremy announced and proceeded to gather the last remaining jar.

  “There’s a lot of fish tins still; I see why Ryan has so many.” Gavin observed.

  “Yeah, nobody wants to eat that shit, but eventually we’ll have too.” Geoff replied.

  “Do you need any more sugar?” Gavin had moved on from the spices and tins.”

  “I’m good on sugar, but see if there’s salt.” Geoff told him.

  “Yep, lots of salt!” Gavin announced as he took a carton.

  “Aw sweet! There’s taffy!” Jeremy immediately grabbed the whole bin.

  They filled their sacks with a wide assortment of goods, and heaved them over their shoulders.

  “It’s like Christmas.” Jeremy commented with a grin.

 

  With Geoff in the lead they left the store. The street was eerily quiet as they made their way back outside.

   “Good haul, huh?” Jeremy smiled. This was more food than the lads ever got.

  Gavin was giddy as well, “We’ll eat like kings!”

  Geoff shushed them.

  “Sorry.” Gavin whispered.

  Jeremy abruptly stopped mid-chuckle, “Stop!” he shouted to the group.

  They all froze and turned to Jeremy, eyes frantically scanning the horizon.

  Jeremy said nothing but used his head to point their attention upwards to a building they were about to pass in front of.

  Geoff cursed under his breath and raised his gun.

  Attached to the second storey was a strange creature. It was holding on to the brickwork upside down and its skin matched the colour and texture of the brick. The creature still had a humanoid torso and head, but its lower body was that of a lobster with the legs of a centipede instead of swimmerets. Each arm was replaced by a long crab leg tipped with a deadly sharp spike. Its eyes were a solid black and they were fixed on the group.

  Seeing that it had been spotted, the creature leapt from the building and landed squarely in from of them, about fifteen feet away.

  “Fuck off and no one gets hurt.” Geoff warned with his shotgun fixed on the creature.

  Now that the creature had left the red brick work and was on the grey cobble stone, its skin had adopted a mottled grey appearance to match. In response to Geoff’s threat it made a clicking almost static-like noise as its upper body swayed side to side.

  “Leave!” Geoff commanded in case it could understand.

  It opened its mouth with a hiss and broke into a sprint towards them.

  Geoff emptied both barrels of the shotgun into the creature, hitting its right shoulder and disabling that arm. The left, however was fine, and it swiped at Geoff as the creature howled in pain.

  Geoff blocked the swipe with the body of the shotgun and then flipped the gun around so he was holding the barrel. Using it as a bat he whacked the left arm so hard there was a resounding crack and the creature screeched.

  “Run!” Geoff ordered the other two.

  “We’re not gonna leave you with this thing!” Jeremy shouted back.

  Geoff saw the determination on Jeremy’s face and knew he was going nowhere. He passed the shotgun to him, “Then help me beat the shit out of this thing!” he then shrugged off his jacket and began to pull off his sweater.

  Jeremy didn’t question it and held up the makeshift bat in front of himself defensively. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gavin rummaging through his sack.

  Gavin was quick to find what he was looking for. He pulled out his box of salt and tore open the top just as the creature was readying another attack. Salt in hand, he leapt forward and threw the salt into the creature’s eyes making it reel back and scream.

 Geoff had his sweater off and was bare chested. A large crease ran down from his collar bone to his belly button. He ran towards the creature and when he was right next to it he arched back. The crease that ran down his abdomen was in fact a hole and when he arched back it pulled itself open. His rib cage split like a blooming flower and from within a mass of white translucent tentacles poured forth. There were so many that they dwarfed his body, almost consuming him as they unravelled into a what appeared like a massive sea anemone.

  Geoff’s tentacles wrapped around the creature’s chest and head.

  The creature’s screams increased in volume and desperation as every place the tentacles touched became a red welt as if burned. More and more welts appeared and the creature’s struggles quickly began to weaken.

  Within seconds it was dead.

  Geoff retracted his tentacles, and his chest closed around them. He looked to the two boys to see their reactions.

  Both were a mix of horrified and relieved.

  “So now you know.” Geoff forced a weak smile.

  “You saved us.” Gavin said with muted awe. So that’s what Ryan’s serum had done to Geoff.

  Jeremy handed Geoff back the shotgun, “You’re not a monster like these guys.” He gestured to the dead creature.

  “Not yet.” Geoff replied.


	9. Tongue

  _It was coming._

_He didn’t know what it was; all he knew was that it wanted him._

_It was coming._

_He was going to be taken away._

_It was coming._

_He didn’t want to go._

 

  The sound of the doorbell being rung woke Ryan. He stretched with a groan and went to pull the covers off of himself but found them heavier than normal.

  He looked down.

  Sleeping next to him on top of the covers were Edgar and Allen. They had grown.

  Sensing that Ryan was awake they woke and hopped up on top of him.

  Edgar had a humanoid body without a tail. It had long arms and hands with five fingers tipped with small claws. Its feet were also clawed, and it walked upright on its toes.

  Allen’s snout had grown longer like that of a wolf. Its body was more gorilla-like. Three-toed, in the front it walked on its knuckles, concealing long knife-like claws, and in the back it was flat-footed. It had a short fleshy tail like a plucked chicken.

  Each one of them were about the size of a five-year-old child.

  Ryan reached over to feel for his glasses. Finding them, he put them on.

  Edgar and Allen were still there looking at him expectantly.

  The doorbell rang again, reminding Ryan why he had woke in the first place.

  “Get offa me.” He tried to shoo them off of his body but they didn’t move. He had to gently push them aside.

  Getting out of bed, he donned a robe on top of his pyjamas.

  The doorbell rang a third time.

  “I’m coming!” Ryan shouted even though he was sure he wouldn’t be heard. He left his room and quickly took the stairs down to the main floor. He was feeling much better today.

  Edgar and Allen were far less graceful on the stairs as they followed Ryan down. They climbed down the stairs backwards as if descending a ladder.

  Ryan gave them a quick backwards glance before pulling open the mail slot in the door, “Hello?”

  Jack and Geoff were standing on his doorstep.

  “Jack’s got a problem.” Geoff told him.

  “Nothing big, but I’d like you to check it out.” Jack clarified.

  Geoff scoffed, “’Nothing big’.”

  “Alright, just give me a minute.” Ryan closed the mail slot and looked down at Edgar and Allen who were now milling about behind him.

  What was he to do about them? Geoff and Jack were unlikely to take kindly to them, but most of all he wasn’t entirely convinced that Edgar and Allen wouldn’t see the two men as food.

  He walked past his office and down the hall next to the stairs until he made it to the door leading to the basement. As expected, the two creatures followed him obediently.

  Ryan unlocked the door, opening it, “Ok come on, downstairs you go.” He tried to lure them in by gesturing.

  They looked up at him with curiosity, not understanding.

  “Edgar, Allen, down.” Ryan pointed down the stairs.

  They didn’t move.

  Maybe they would follow him. Ryan walked down a few steps, “C‘mere.” He used his pet voice.

  Allen was quick to follow but Edgar was hesitant, standing right before the first step.

  “Come on,” Ryan urged gently.

  The doorbell rang again, this time several times in quick secession.

  “I’m coming!” Ryan growled. Couldn’t they just be patient?

  Edgar squealed and backed away and Allen looked to Ryan fearfully.

  “Oh no, not you, you aren’t in trouble. It’s okay.” He spoke calmly to them and pat Allen gently on the head, “C’mon Edgar.” Ryan took a few more steps down.

  Edgar turned and began to descend.

  “Good boy –er, whatever.” Ryan praised it and gave it a quick pet between the shoulders.

  Edgar made a happy hum.

  “I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.” Ryan said and then quickly sprinted up the stairs. He locked the door behind him, apologised once more, and then returned to the front door.

  Ryan unlocked and opened the door, “Sorry about that. Had a patient I was taking care of.”

  Geoff looked at him suspiciously, “In your pyjamas?”

  “They woke me. I didn’t have time to change.” Ryan lied. He gestured for them to enter.

  “Why is the inside of your mouth black?” Geoff noticed and he entered with Jack in tow.

  “What?” Ryan’s hand flew to his mouth.

  “Your tongue is black.” Geoff looked to Jack for confirmation.

  Jack nodded, “Geoff’s right, it’s black.”

  “Shit.” Ryan locked the door after them, “I’ll have to examine it later,” he turned to face his guests, “So what’s wrong with you?”

  Jack took a breath, “It’s my arm. The stitches feel tight, itchy, and I swear I can feel movement.”

  “The first two are normal, but what kind of movement are you feeling?” Ryan asked. Jack might be experiencing a phantom limb, “Sit down on a bed and I can remove your bandages to inspect the stitches.”

  Jack did as he was told and sat on the nearest bed, “The movement feels like… I don’t know; maggots?”

  Ryan frowned. If there were maggots it was a very bad sign of necrosis, “Ok let me take a look.”

  Jack shrugged off his jacket and then Geoff aided him in removing his shirt.

  The bandages had bled through some places, but the amount was not excessive, nor was the visible skin inflamed or hot to the touch. That meant that there was likely no infection, so something else had to be the issue.

  As he slowly unwrapped the bandages, Ryan prayed that he wouldn’t find necrotic tissue and maggots.

  The stitches were still in place with a thin layer of dried blood around them. His skin was darker around the stitches, reaching black, but it was the black of his blood and not death.

  Ryan put the bandages down with relief, “It looks perfectly fine. As it should look at this stage in the healing process.”

  “So he’s just being paranoid?” Geoff crossed his arms and looked to Ryan with a raised brow.

  Ryan shook his head, “Discomfort is part of the healing process. It’s not like he’s experienced the loss of a limb before.”

  Jack looked down at his shoulder, “Uh, Doc. You might wanna see this.”

  “What?” Ryan asked but then saw what Jack had mentioned, “What?!”

  A black vein had wormed its way between the stitches and was slowly waving in the air.

  The group gaped as a second and third vein emerged from the stitched up wound.

  “Is that normal, Doctor?” Geoff said smugly.

  Ryan ignored his smugness, “No, it is not.” He slipped on some gloves and approached the wound.

  “It looks like what the serum did to my arm spread beyond what you amputated…” Jack observed.

  Ryan poked one of the veins. All of them instantly retracted within the wound.

  Jack cringed, “I felt that.”

  “What the fuck?” Geoff swore, “Did you fucking cut off his arm for no reason?!”

  “I misjudged–” Ryan began.

  Jack interrupted, “He couldn’t have known!”

  “I’m so sorry.” Ryan apologised to Jack.

  Jack shook his head, “Don’t. It was ultimately my decision.”

  “Under extreme duress…” Ryan argued.

  “What’s done is done; it’s not like you can sew my arm back on.” Jack waved his good hand.

  Ryan frowned but nodded, “So what do we do now?”

  “You’re the doctor!” Geoff shouted.

  Ryan gave him a tired look.

  “What if you cut open the stitches and let them out?” Jack suggested, “I can feel them pushing up against them and I’m worried the stitches will tear.”

  “I would normally recommend against that.” Ryan told him, “But I really don’t know what to do in this situation… If that’s what you feel is best, then I’ll do it.”

  “You can always sew me up again, right?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, but the scar will be much larger.”

  “Who cares about a scar? He has no fucking arm!” Geoff pointed out.

  “He’s right.” Jack nodded, “Cut me open.” He smiled.

  Ryan sighed but left and got himself a clean scalpel. When he returned he asked, “You sure?”

  “Yes.” Jack confirmed and turned so that his shoulder better faced Ryan, “I don’t want these things tearing their way out like before.”

  Scalpel in hand, Ryan began to cut and remove each individual stitch. When he got to the third stitch the wound pushed itself open and several black veins fell out like disemboweled entrails. They squirmed and flinched away from Ryan’s touch, retracting back into Jack’s flesh. By the time Ryan removed the final stitch there was a mass of veins hanging down limply from the wound.

  “Well, you’re not bleeding.” Ryan stated flatly, his eyes fixed on the veins. The longest vein was a good six inches.

  “They’re like tentacles.” Geoff was watching them with fascination.

  “Speaking of,” Ryan turned to Geoff, “How are yours?”

  “Fine.” Geoff huffed, “Had to use them to kill someone earlier today, but I’m fine.”

  “Kill someone?” Ryan was clearly worried, “Not one of the–”

  “The boys are fine, Ryan.” Jack informed him, “Geoff went out with Jeremy and Gavin, and someone attacked them down by the market.”

  “My shotgun did shit all, so I had to improvise.” Geoff explained.

  “You shouldn’t be dragging them along.” Ryan said, “Not while they’re still uninfected.”

  “It’s not like they can leave this town. They’ll be infected eventually.” Geoff explained as if it were fact.

  “You can’t know that.” Jack argued, “We still don’t know how we got it.” He reached over to touch the veins. Unlike with Ryan, the veins did not retract at his touch.

  Ryan was watching with interest, “You can feel through them, but can you control them?”

  Jack shrugged, “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “If you can it’s like you lost one arm and gained dozens of really short ones.” Geoff grinned.

  Jack laughed at the joke, “Imagine just how many pencils I could hold!”

  Ryan forced a smile, “They might grow longer. I know I didn’t leave behind any veins this long when I amputated.”

  “I’ll have the tentacles to match my beak, then.” Jack smiled, but his eye was sad.

  “Another pencil holder.” Geoff joked.

  Jack looked to Geoff with a nod and chuckle.

  “Is there anything else either of you want me to check out or help with?” Ryan was acutely aware that Edgar and Allen were locked up and could be up to anything.

  “Trying to get rid of us?” Jack raised a brow.

  “Yeah, what could you possibly have going on?” Geoff asked.

  “Well since you mentioned my tongue, I kinda wanted to examine that. Privately. My own corruption hasn’t been outwardly visible until now.” Ryan half-lied. He was honestly far more concerned with Edgar and Allen. A black tongue wasn’t much to worry about.

  “Ok.” Jack nodded, “But you should come by our place for dinner. Partly so you don’t go stir crazy, and partly so that we don’t have to drag Michael here so that you can change his bandages.”

  “Why didn’t you bring him with you?” Ryan was curious, “I could have done all that now.”

  “We suggested it to him, but after seeing how traumatised the others were after their adventure today, he opted to stay with them instead.” Geoff shrugged.

  “When you killed a man with your tentacles?” Ryan lifted a brow.

  “They weren’t a person anymore.” Geoff argued.

  Ryan adjusted his glasses, “Of course.” He looked back at Jack, “I’ll be sure to come by this evening, but I’ll want to come back before it gets dark.”

  “You can always spend the night at our place,” Jack offered.

  Ryan shook his head, “No. There’s things I need to be here for.”

  “What things?” Jack asked.

  “Personal things.” Ryan replied.

  Geoff rolled his eyes, “If that’s code for jerkin’ off, you can do that later.”

  Ryan threw him a dirty look, “Just because you have a thing for tentacles, doesn’t mean I do.”

  Geoff’s jaw dropped and he scoffed, “Seriously?!” He crossed his arms and muttered, “As if.”

  “I have experiments to tend to and as my own corruption advances, I have less and less time to do so.” Ryan explained.

  “Then come with us now and let’s do lunch. We just raided the grocer, so we have lots of good food.” Jack tried again.

  Ryan hesitated. He was hungry, but could he leave Edgar and Allen alone? God it would be great to have something that wasn’t seafood. Eventually his stomach won the argument, “Ok fine, but no more than a couple of hours.”

  Jack went to clap his hands together but stopped when he remembered his situation, “Great! Let’s go then. Geoff, help me with my shirt.”

  Geoff nodded and aided Jack in getting back into his shirt. He then held up his jacket for Jack to step into.

  “Let me go and get changed.” Ryan told them. He left to go up the stairs. As he climbed he yawned; how much sleep could he possibly need?

  Getting to his room he remembered what Geoff had said about his tongue so he went to his bathroom mirror. He stuck out his tongue and found he could stick it out much further than usual. It kept on coming and coming until finally its length stopped at just above his belly button.

  Ryan tried not to freak out. At least it wasn’t as bad as the worms in his blood. He retracted his tongue and swallowed before fully extending it once more.

  Gingerly he felt it, and found that there were fleshy bumps with something hard inside running up either edge of his tongue. They went up about two thirds of the way before they grew smaller and disappeared altogether.

  Wondering what the hard thing inside each bump was he chose one near the end of his tongue and pressed on it. Out popped a sharp cat claw-like hook.

  Well that was interesting.

  As he kept the hook extended a small bead of yellow fluid grew on its tip.

  He didn’t want to think about just what that fluid could be, so he let the hook retract. Putting his tongue back in his mouth he focused on how it felt. It felt pretty normal, but now aware of the concealed hooks he swore he could feel them against his teeth when he pushed hard enough against them.

  Again he extended his tongue. This time he tested his control of it. He was able to effectively wrap it around his bare forearm. Out of curiosity he constricted his tongue’s hold on his arm to test how much strength it had. He let out a yelp as all the hooks emerged from their sheaths and pierced his skin.

  Immediately he retracted his tongue and inspected his arm. So that’s how those hooks worked. Why had he tried that on himself and not something like a towel?

  Black beads of blood appeared along his arm. It felt tingly.

  Ryan tried to shake the feeling out, but the tingling only spread, quickly turning into numbness.

  Within a few seconds his arm was limp at his side, paralyzed, and the tingling only continued to travel further. It spread across his chest and Ryan began to panic.

  He was venomous. That much was clear to him.

  Racing out into his bedroom, the strength in one of his legs gave in to the tingles and he fell to the ground right next to his desk with a loud THUD.

  “Help!” He desperately called out as his whole body succumbed and began to grow numb. Soon he was unable to move his arms or legs, and was only left able to move his eyes. It was if his whole body below the neck was gone.

  He tried to call for help again, but all that came out was a moan.

  Fucking perfect.

 

  Geoff looked to Jack to confirm that he too had heard the thud from upstairs, “Did you…?”

  Jack nodded and stood, “It didn’t sound good. We should go check.”

  Geoff nodded back, and the two of them hurried upstairs to investigate what the noise was.

  “Which room is his?” Geoff opened a door to an empty bedroom.

  Jack opened yet another empty room, “It sounded like it came from this side of the house.”

  Geoff opened another door, “Empty again! Screw this place!”

 Jack pulled open the correct door and saw Ryan face down and unmoving on the floor, “Geoff! Over here!”

  Geoff rushed over and saw the scene, “Oh my god, what happened?”

  Ryan could only moan in response. His mouth was partially ajar and he was beginning to drool.

  “He’s awake!” Jack crouched by Ryan’s head, “Hey, what happened, are you alright?”

  A moan and huff from Ryan.

  “I don’t think he can speak.” Geoff crouched next to Jack.

  Ryan rolled his eyes.

  “What the hell happened?” Geoff wanted to examine Ryan but was afraid to touch him, so his hands remained in an awkward hover above him.

  “He must have fell, but he can’t move. You don’t think he broke his back?” Jack was also wary about touching Ryan in case that made the situation worse.

  Geoff’s passed over Ryan’s partially rolled down sleeve and he noticed some smudged blood. He went over and pulled up the sleeve carefully, “Jack look at this.” He pointed to the strange wounds wrapping around Ryan’s arm, “I think he’s been bit, or scratched, by something.” Geoff quickly stood and looked around the room for any sign of a monster.

  “Then we need to get him out of here before he – or we – become a meal.” Jack moved to Ryan’s feet and grabbed the cuffs of both pantlegs in his hand, “Geoff, help me get him out of here.”

  Geoff bent down and hooked his arms under Ryan’s shoulders, heaving him off the ground.  As he did so, Ryan head flopped down and his jaw opened, spilling his tongue out and onto the floor.

  “Oh my God! It’s in him!” Geoff shouted as he saw the dark appendage emerge. He put Ryan back down, “I’m gonna pull it out! Hold on Ryan!”

  Ryan made a variety of noises in protest, but none were intelligible.

  Geoff grabbed Ryan’s tongue with both hands. He squeezed tight and immediately yelped, letting go and pulling his hands back.

  “It’s sharp!” He revealed his now bleeding hands.

  “Geoff, are you alright?!” Jack put down Ryan’s legs and hurried over to Geoff.

  Geoff was shaking out his hands, “It feels like my hands have fallen asleep.”

  Ryan groaned. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. First he has to taste the carpet, and then Geoff’s hands, and now Geoff is going to end up paralyzed as well.

  “It’s spreading up my arms.” Geoff announced, “All pins and needles and I can’t feel my hands!”

  Jack was at his side, “Can you move them?”

  Panic spread across Geoff’s face, “I can’t move my arms!” he swallowed and his voice cracked, “And now I feel it in my chest and legs!”

  Jack looked to Ryan and realised that it must have been his fate as well, “Geoff, get on the ground before you fall! Whatever is happening to you must be what happened to Ryan.” He slipped his arm under Geoff’s shoulder, “Come on. Down you go.”

  Geoff accepted his aid and made it safely to the floor just as he lost feeling in his legs.

  Jack sat down between them, torn between running to get help and ensuring that the two of them remained ok.

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to stay here and make sure you two are safe.” Jack decided. He positioned himself so that he could have clear view of them both.

 

  It was an hour before Ryan regained feeling again. Painful pins danced across his skin and through his muscles, making him involuntarily twitch.

  Jack noticed the movement, “Ryan,” He came closer, bending over him, “You ok?”

 “Eugh.” Ryan tried to reply. At least he was past only being able to moan, “Em ine.” He found he was able to move his tongue again, but promised himself it wasn’t going back into his mouth until he could wash it.

  “What’s in your mouth?! That’s not your tongue is it?”

  Ryan discovered he could nod.

  “So that’s your corruption, huh?”

  Another nod.

  Geoff moaned.

  Ryan turned his head to look at Geoff, “I ungue.”

  “Your tongue.” Jack understood.

  Geoff made a sound of disgust and disdain at having grabbed his tongue.

  “I innit ike et eiher!” Ryan furiously glared at Geoff.

  Geoff angrily groaned.

  “Ok so it was a bad experience for both of you.” Jack got the gist of what they were arguing about, “But what I need to ask is why you paralyzed yourself?”

  “Aksident.” Ryan replied. He was able to curl and uncurl his fingers and toes.

  “So you have a tongue that can paralyze people.” Jack stated aloud.

  “Apparenly” Ryan began to be able to lift his head. His tongue idly curled on the carpet.

  A few minutes later he could move his arms and legs, but when went to stand he wobbled and fell back down to his knees.

  “Get me a wet towel.” Ryan asked Jack around his extended tongue.

  “Oh?” Jack stood and gave Ryan his arm to aide him if he tried stand again.

  Ryan waved his arm away, opting to stay on his knees, “I want to wash my tongue.”

  On the ground, Geoff twitched. His own paralysis was beginning to wear off as well.

  Jack went to the bathroom, wet a towel and returned.

  Ryan accepted it graciously, immediately wiping down his tongue. Finally he felt it was safe to retract it and he sighed in relief.

 “Thank you.” Ryan threw the towel aside, and this time when he tried to stand he managed it successfully, “Geoff should be back on his feet shortly.” He looked to Jack, “Does the lunch offer still stand?”

 


	10. Shriek

  Lunch was a simple but tasty affair. Geoff had heated up some beans, added in diced bits of jerky and a few spices. He served it with canned tomatoes and some pickled artichoke hearts.

  Ryan was grateful for the change of pace in food, while Geoff was proud to have made something edible using the mess of ingredients Jeremy and Gavin had brought back. Gavin had brought almost exclusively condiments and spices, while Jeremy had gathered all sweets and preserved fruits.

  Jack was happy that the food didn’t need to be cut up. While it was awkward to use a fork in his right, it was still possible, but using both a fork and a knife at the same time was not. On the up side, he was beginning to figure out how to control the movement of the veins on his left, but they were still far too short and uncoordinated to be of much use. Secretly he hoped that Ryan was right about their potential to grow longer. A tentacle arm would be better than no arm at all. Too bad his eye had no chance of growing back…

  “Stop scratching your stitches.” Ryan scolded Michael.

  Michael gave him a glare but stopped and picked his fork back up.

  “Can you use your tongue to eat?” Gavin asked Ryan.

  “Tongues are generally used when eating.” Ryan replied.

  Gavin frowned, “You bloody well know what I mean.”

  “I am not going to use my tongue. I feel it would be rude… and messy.” Ryan said.

  “Still, you should learn how to use that thing, if only to prevent paralysing yourself and others.” Geoff commented.

  “It wasn’t my fault you decided to grab my tongue.” Ryan told him, “And it was curiosity that had me paralyse myself. Not to mention I had no way of knowing that would happen.”

  Jack nodded but also said, “Yet you’re lucky you aren’t toxic like Geoff. You could have seriously hurt yourself.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t poison myself. I’m fine touching my tentacles, it’s just others that aren’t.” Geoff explained.

  Ryan thought it over, “Jack has a point though. Venomous snakes aren’t immune to their own venom.”

  Geoff shuddered, “Can we not bring up snakes? Around our meal?”

  “Oh my god. You serious? After all the shit that we’ve seen? Snakes?” Michael couldn’t believe that it was snakes that made Geoff most uncomfortable.

  “Tentacles are kinda snake-like.” Gavin offered.

  “And eels are snakes of the sea.” Jeremy added.

  Ryan shook his head, “There _are_ actual sea snakes…”

  “Can we stop with the snake talk, please?!” Geoff’s voice cracked, “It’s bad enough I have to look at those veins hanging out of Jack’s arm and Ryan’s black mouth.”

  Jack frowned and Ryan stuck his tongue out at its full length.

  Geoff put down his fork with a clang, and glared at Ryan, “Has anyone told you you’re an asshole?!”

  Ryan wiggled his tongue back and forth with a smile.

  Jeremy laughed while Gavin suppressed a gag. Michael grinned wide; Geoff was far too easy to annoy.

  Geoff picked his fork back up and pointed it at Ryan, “Asshole.”

  Ryan returned his tongue to his mouth.

  “But as a doctor, can’t paralysis be useful? For surgery and stuff.” Jeremy asked Ryan.

  “I’m not going to lick my patients.” Ryan easily answered him. His mind travelled to the worms in his blood. They ate animal protein. What would happen if he paralyzed someone and then put a worm into the wound? Would they be devoured from the inside out while unable to feel or do anything?

  Was that the kind of monster he was turning into?

  Ryan chased the thought from his head with a mental broom. He would never do something like that.

  What if someone swallowed a worm? Would it survive the stomach and grow inside them?

  Once again Ryan waved his mental broom, sending the thoughts away. He moved on to thinking about Edgar and Allen. Hopefully they hadn’t found a way to escape the basement.

  Gavin waved a hand in front of Ryan’s face, “Helloooo.”

  Ryan shook his head, apparently he’d stared off into space, “Sorry, just thinking.”

  “It was a bit abrupt.” Michael told him.

  “Hopefully those thoughts weren’t about licking patients.” Jeremy chuckled.

  “Well,” Ryan began.

  The table laughed.

  “Oh my god!” Michael exclaimed.

  “No! Not like that!” Ryan defended himself, “I was just thinking if there was any useful application of my venom; maybe as an injection or such if I could collect it.” He lied, but then thought that that could actually have potential.

  “Trust me when I say no one would want to be injected with your bodily fluids.” Geoff stated.

  Jack laughed loudly at that, as did Michael and Jeremy, with Gavin almost choking on his drink.

  Ryan raised a brow with a sly smile, but said nothing.

 

~*~

 

  When Ryan returned home he didn’t even bother with the locks on his front door before hurrying over to the basement door.

  He stopped to listen. It was quiet.

  Cautiously he unlocked the door and pushed it open a few inches. Would Edgar and Allen be mad at him for being locked up and abandoned for several hours?

  There was nothing but the damp darkness of the basement beyond.

  Ryan opened the door fully.

  It was now or never.

  “Edgar? Allen?” He gently called out. It was unlikely that they would respond to their names, but it was worth a shot. If anything they might just respond to the sound of his voice.

  Nothing.

  Ryan let out a breath, and began the climb down. The light from the open door lit his way until he reached his little table with the lantern on top. Lighting up the lantern he was able to see beyond the beam of light from upstairs.

  “Edgar? Allen?” Ryan asked quietly. All his hair stood on end and prickled his neck as he saw no sign of them over near him and the furnace.

  The furnace let out a clank and loud hiss making Ryan abruptly turn to stare at it accusingly, “Fuck you.” He took a calming breath, but his gut still turned, folding over itself like kneaded dough.

  If Edgar and Allen weren’t in this part of the basement, then there were only two options; and they were both bad.

  Forgoing all of his safety gear, Ryan crept along towards the sectioned off area where his patients were stored.

  A wet tearing sound followed by a loud boney crunch reached his ears.

  Ryan hurried his pace.

  He pulled aside the curtain hanging in his makeshift doorway and brought the lantern around.

  The room reeked of iron. Black liquid covered the floor, pooling where the ground was uneven. Where there was still floor visible, the liquid was smeared from struggle. Cages were bent and torn open. Chains and rope were torn from the walls and shredded. Meat and bone were littered among the wreckage, too mangled to be called carcasses.

  Across from the doorway two hunched forms had their back to Ryan. Each was larger than a man in size and they were busy making horrific sounds using something heaped on the floor before them.

  As Ryan raised his lantern for a better look, the two forms straightened and turned their heads towards him.

  One was upright with a lamprey mouth surrounded by tentacles. It stood with a hunched posture, but even so was as tall as Ryan. The second moved on all fours, yet its shoulder almost reached Ryan’s.

  “Edgar? Allen?” Ryan’s hands suddenly felt sweaty and cold.

  The creatures fully turned and stared Ryan down, their monstrous faces unreadable and covered in gore.

  Ryan swallowed.

  Allen with its boney head and multiple black eyes, clacked its teeth together and made a chirp. Edgar, the one with the hunched but upright posture, began cleaning its mouth tentacles of gore.

    The lantern light shook with Ryan’s hand. His feet were rooted to the spot with fear, as a bead of sweat rolled down his right temple.

  Allen approached, raised its head, and bumped its nose against the lantern, uttering another chirp, before turning away back to the mess of bones and flesh it had previously been consuming.

  Edgar lowered its tentacled head and moved towards Ryan as well.

  Ryan didn’t dare move.

  Edgar bent over until it was on all fours, and nuzzled Ryan’s free hand. Its tentacles gently caressing his skin, before moving away and appearing to stare him expectantly.

  There was a loud bang from somewhere upstairs, grabbing all their attention.

  Ryan whipped around towards the stairs, while Edgar and Allen raised their heads in curiosity.

  Another bang reverberated down. It was as if something solid were being forcefully struck.

  Ryan gave the two monsters a cursory look back before hurrying in the direction of the stairs. Edgar and Allen were quick to follow him, tagging along like curious children.

  As Ryan’s foot hit the first stair there was yet another bang. Taking two steps at a time he reached the main floor landing and pulled his revolver from its holster. He ran towards the front of his clinic where the sounds had come from.

  Another bang, but with it the front door of the building came crashing inwards, smashing stonework and splintering wood.

  Ryan raised his gun and behind him Edgar and Allen broke into growls as a creature stepped over the threshold and into the clinic.

  It had a long flexible neck, topped with a round head full of eyes and a beard of tentacles. Its body was small, like that of a child, and mostly humanoid save for the black skin and long claws.

  Ryan fired at the creature, and Edgar and Allen rushed forward in attack. The bullet struck true, hitting the creature’s chest, causing it to shriek.

  Edgar, Allen, and Ryan dropped to the ground grabbing and clawing at their heads. The shriek didn’t stop.

  It was as if it was drilling into their heads, piercing their brains with pure agony. Ryan couldn’t tell if he was crying out, but his lungs and throat began to burn and black spots danced in the corners of his vision. He saw that Edgar and Allen weren’t faring any better, as his vision began to fade.

  He struggled to rise, but the shriek continued, pushing him back to the ground. His left hand found the broken glass of his dropped lantern, extinguished by its own fuel. His right still held the revolver with five shots left.

  Shaking, he lifted his right arm and tried to aim.

  The creature appeared to notice the weapon, and its shriek hit a higher pitch.

  Ryan immediately dropped the gun and clamped both hands over his ears, as darkness swallowed his vision.

  It took a few more seconds, but then he and his pets were still.

**Author's Note:**

> Planning on doing a chapter by chapter release with this baby, which is unusual for me as i tend to just post 20k at a time, but after writing the plot outline for this au I started feeling too overwhelmed to actually write it. So it will come out in chapters, and hopefully by the last chapter/epilogue it will be a full self-contained story and not an ongoing series like my other works.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Like my fic? Wanna talk to others that like my fic? Join my Discord! https://discord.gg/xK8Bwqx


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